The Unwanted One
by Amyria
Summary: Harry has always wished for someone to care, for a family of his own. On his birthday, he finds out that a certain Potions Master is his father, but Severus has just settled into life with his other son. Can Harry finally have the family he has longed for, or will he always be the unwanted one? Severitus. AU 6th year.
1. Summer of Misery

**A/N:** _Hello everyone! I've never written a fanfic before and decided to give it a try, but I absolutely love reading them. It's fun to take these characters and put them into new situations and seeing what would happen. I love stories where Snape turns out to be Harry's father, but what if Snape already has a son that he just found out about a few months before Harry? I got inspired to do a sibling story but with a kind of twisted way as you will soon find out. Hope you read and enjoy!_

 **Things to note:** _This is an AU so some things in canon might not apply in this universe. The Dursleys are more abusive than in canon. I wanted a Harry who was more willing to accept that Snape was his father and his want for a family to be greater. Snape might be a little OOC later on because he's a father._

 **Disclaimer:** _I own nothing, the world and all characters except my originals belong to J.K Rowling._

 **Warnings:** _Abuse scenes in this chapter, nothing graphic._

* * *

The sun was blazing above him in a cloudless blue sky, burning the back of his neck as Harry worked in the backyard. He took a moment to wipe the sweat dripping down his forehead with the back of his hand before continuing to pull the last of the overgrown weeds from Aunt Petunia's garden, ignoring his protesting muscles. All he wanted at the moment was a cool glass of water and a break underneath the shade of the tree, though he figured he shouldn't be complaining, having spent the majority of his summer so far locked in his room all day.

It was only because the Dursleys were hosting a grand dinner party for Uncle Vernon's clients that Harry was allowed out of his room for the first time in weeks. Aunt Petunia's shrill shrieks and brisk knocks on his door had woken up him before the crack of dawn, and she'd shoved a rather lengthy list of chores into his hand, ordering him to _"make himself somewhat useful"_ by finishing them before the guests arrived the next evening. Harry thought the list would certainly take more than a day and a half to finish. Everything from cleaning the entire house to mowing the lawn to also preparing most of the extravagant dinner was listed.

He'd heard Uncle Vernon talking about the importance of the event numerous times over the course of the past week from his room, and again this morning when he'd set his beady eyes on Harry.

"This dinner party could promote me to the job that I so rightfully deserve," Uncle Vernon had proclaimed before turning to Harry and pointing a chubby finger at him, "And you better not mess this one up boy— I'm _warning_ you. Any _freaky_ business, any at all, and you will wish you had never been born."

Harry could care less about this dinner party, but decided to keep his head down and do whatever he was told, not wanting to experience another one of his uncle's punishments. He'd found out from an early age that Uncle Vernon always followed through with his threats.

So the entire house had already been thoroughly cleaned, the garden bench and fence had been repainted, and the lawn had been mowed twice. But it seemed no matter how hard he tried, it was never up to the standard that Aunt Petunia wanted— which was a standard no one could ever hope to achieve, _especially_ not Harry. She'd even made a fuss over a speck of dust Harry had apparently missed while cleaning this morning, which was rather ridiculous if you asked him, considering they were in parts of the house that the guests would _never even see_.

Though Harry didn't mind the chores really, at least they were a welcome distraction from the terrible things that inhabited his mind lately. He'd much rather be out doing chores all day than stuck in his room with nothing to do except stare at the peeling wallpaper, his thoughts free to wander.

It was better not to dwell on those thoughts, so he tried keeping them locked away, preferring not to acknowledge them, because he knew that if he did, everything would seem more… _real_.

Harry didn't want to think about the fact that he'd lost the only chance he had of finally getting a family. He had always wondered what it'd be like to have a family, to have someone who actually wanted him around. It'd been a dream of Harry's when he was younger, hoping that someone would come whisk him away from his miserable existence with the Dursleys, but it never happened, until Sirius had offered him a home, after everything was said and done. That was the chance he'd been hoping for, but it had drifted away like smoke slipping through his fingers and disappearing into thin air, like Sirius falling through the veil and never seen again…

 _How could he have been so stupid?_

Harry didn't know how he could forgive himself— or if he would _ever_ forgive himself.

If only he had really focused and properly learned Occlumency, perhaps he would have realized that it was actually a vision sent by Voldemort. Then that whole incident wouldn't have happened...

Sometimes, Harry wished that it was just another awful nightmare he was going to wake up from, and everything would be all right again... That one day Harry would receive a letter from Snuffles asking how he was doing… but he wouldn't, ever again.

Of course, another person was killed because of his reckless actions.

And ever since his return to Privet Drive, Harry had been locked in his room most of the time. The Dursleys seemed to ignore him and pretended he didn't exist, unless they needed him for manual labor of some sort. Aunt Petunia had resumed to using that cat flap on Harry's door to occasionally deliver some food whenever she remembered. It was just as well, Harry had hoped they would leave him be, but it left him feeling more alone than ever.

He wished Hedwig was here, just so he had someone to talk to, but he'd sent her home with Ron for the summer. He knew Hedwig would be much happier at the Burrow, where she would be allowed to fly and hunt freely instead of locked in her cage all day with Harry at the Dursleys.

"Boy! Get in here!" a sharp voice called from behind him, snapping Harry out of his thoughts. He looked over his shoulder to see Aunt Petunia standing impatiently in the doorway.

Harry plucked the last weed from the garden, and then stood, quickly brushing the dirt off his worn trousers before making his way into the house, glad to finally be out from underneath the scorching sun.

"Start preparing dinner, and try not to _burn_ anything," Aunt Petunia ordered as soon as Harry set foot into the house. "And don't _touch_ anything until you've washed your hands first!" She hissed, eyeing him with disgust before turning back to the rather large cake she was in the middle of icing.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry said, making his way to the bathroom.

Once Harry had finished preparing all the food to Aunt Petunia's standards, she ordered him to clean the kitchen and then set the table.

Just as Harry was finishing setting the table, Uncle Vernon came waddling into the kitchen, dressed in a dinner jacket and bowtie. He briefly scrutinized Harry's work before shoving a set of clothes into his hands.

"Get changed boy, and look presentable. I will not have you looking like a no good hoodlum in front of my guests," Uncle Vernon said, looking Harry up and down.

Harry was going to point out that these clothes were just slightly better than Dudley's old castoffs that they always made him wear, but thought better of it. Instead he quietly replied with, "Yes, Uncle Vernon," before he turned to leave the room.

Harry was stopped by a beefy hand grabbing onto his overly large shirt, and Uncle Vernon whispering harshly into his ear, "And one more thing boy, I don't want any funny business happening when my guests are here. Understood?"

"Y-yes Uncle," Harry nodded, trying to pull away.

"You better," he hissed, roughly releasing him.

* * *

The guests began arriving as soon as Harry had finished changing. Uncle Vernon was at the door with Dudley, greeting each guest and welcoming them into their lovely home. Meanwhile, Aunt Petunia was busily checking every food item that was prepared in the kitchen.

"Boy, take these to the table," Aunt Petunia's shrill voice demanded as she pointed to the platters of food that were waiting on the counter.

It took Harry several trips to deliver all the food to the table, all the while ignoring the loud grumblings from his stomach at the delicious smells wafting throughout the house. There was more than enough food for the amount of guests invited, and Harry hoped Aunt Petunia would allow him to have the leftovers afterwards. The last time he had eaten was yesterday morning, when she'd given him a thin slice of stale bread before ordering him outside.

Once the guests were all seated around the large table, Harry retreated back into the kitchen and was set to act as their waiter throughout the dinner, bringing anything they wanted when called for. Everything was actually going smoothly and Harry thought he was actually going to make it through this one. But of course he should have known it was too good to be true.

When it was time to bring out the cake that Aunt Petunia had baked and decorated for dessert, Harry carefully lifted it and slowly headed towards the table. He was so focused on trying not to drop it that he failed to notice Dudley's foot sticking out from underneath the table. Before Harry knew what was happening, he and the cake were both falling forward, the cake becoming airborne. Once Harry caught his footing, he stood rooted to the spot, his heart dropping to his feet as he continued to watch the scene play out with increasing horror. He could have sworn he saw the cake slow and then hover in the air for a few seconds as if someone had pushed a button that paused time, before it proceeded on its trajectory, covering many of the guests in clumps of cake and colorful icing. Startled yelps and screams filled the room, .

 _I'm so dead—_

"Nice going, Potter! You ruined some perfectly good cake!" Dudley shouted, briefly glaring at Harry before he scooped up a bit of cake that landed next to his plate with the tip of his finger, tasting it.

"I'm so sorry! It's my nephew, he's a bit disturbed." Uncle Vernon stood, hurriedly apologizing to the guests as Aunt Petunia dashed into the kitchen to retrieve a towel for each of them. "If you will excuse me for a moment, I promise you I am going to take care of this."

Uncle Vernon's large meaty hand then came to grip painfully to his ear and he found himself being dragged forcefully out of the room and up the stairs, towards his bedroom. The grip was so tight Harry thought Uncle Vernon was surely going to pull his ear off.

When they got to his room, Harry was shoved in, and Uncle Vernon closed the door behind them with a resounding slam.

"You've really done it now, boy! Showing your freakiness in front of my guests! You purposely ruined my dinner party!" Uncle Vernon shouted, pointing a pudgy finger at him.

Harry shook his head, "I-I swear I didn't mean to, I just tripped over Dudley's foot and—"

He was abruptly cut off by a large hand sharply making contact with his cheek. Harry gasped, staggering back and bringing a hand up to palm his stinging cheek.

"There's no explaining your way of this, I saw the freakiness you performed with my own two eyes." Uncle Vernon tugged him closer by the front of Harry's shirt, his large face terribly close to Harry's as it turned an unpleasant shade of red, a vein pulsing vividly in his forehead.

"What did I tell you about keeping it under control? You will pay for this boy." His uncle's large fingers began clumsily unbuckling his belt from around his wide waist.

"No please, I-I'm sorry, Un-uncle Vernon. I really didn't mean to— it was an a-accident!" Harry backed away as far as he could, and tried apologizing even though he knew it wasn't going to help deter Uncle Vernon's anger. It never did.

"You ungrateful little freak!" Uncle Vernon roared, sharply swinging the belt. It hit Harry on the shoulder, and he put his arms up in an attempt to shield his face, turning so that his back would take the brunt of the blows. "We provide you with a roof over your head, food, the clothes off our Dudley's back and _this_ is how you repay us? By ruining my dinner party— my one opportunity for a promotion!"

Each strike seemed harder than the last, and Harry tried to not to make any noise, except a sharp breath every time the belt buckle tore into his back. He had found out from a young age that crying never helped lessen the beatings, especially when there wasn't anyone around to stop them. When he had received his first beating at seven years old, he'd pathetically cried for Aunt Petunia's help, stupidly believing that she would do something. Harry had just received receiving harder hits and a week locked in his cupboard, too hurt to move.

"Nothing, but a nuisance. A burden to my family!" Uncle Vernon went on, "Should have died along with your no good freaky parents. Would have done us all a favor!"

It felt like hours had went by, that was surely only a couple of minutes, as the lashes kept coming, and Harry wondered when Uncle Vernon would tire. He couldn't stop a pained gasp from escaping as he crumpled to the floor when Uncle Vernon aimed a few good hits to the back of his legs. Tears pooled in his eyes, ready to stream down his face, but he resolutely kept them from falling.

When it seemed Uncle Vernon had tired of using the belt, he dropped it with a _clunk_ and moved on to kicking and punching instead. Harry's attempts at rolling and squirming out of the way were useless. One especially well placed kick in the ribs knocked the wind out of him and caused him to cough violently. He almost passed out from the pain of it.

Just when it was becoming too much to bare, Uncle Vernon abruptly stopped and stood there for a moment, silently glaring down at Harry, panting heavily from the exertion.

"Nothing but trouble. This is precisely what you deserve!" Uncle Vernon said breathlessly as he clumsily put his belt back on. "And don't be expecting any meals."

He placed a few well placed kicks to Harry's ribs before leaving the room, slamming the door behind him. Harry could hear the sounds of the many locks on his door clicking into place a moment later.

After hearing the last of Uncle Vernon's heavy footfalls receding, Harry attempted to get up off the hard floor and onto his bed, but quickly decided against it. He curled into himself instead, hissing at the sharp pain in his chest from the brief movement. He probably had a broken rib or two and he knew his back didn't look too good either. His whole body, especially his back, felt like it was on fire and the slightest movement he tried to make would send a burst of pain coursing through his body. His bottom lip was bloody and puffy from his efforts of preventing his screams from escaping.

He let out a shaky breath, the tears he'd been holding back were now silently streaming down his face. Uncle Vernon's words reverberated through his mind.

And somewhere in a corner of his mind, he agreed with all that was said.

He _was_ unwanted, unloved, ungrateful, a freak, a burden.

 _Maybe he's right... I deserve to get punished, I get people killed. Look what happened to Sirius... and Cedric, and Mum and Dad._

More than ever, Harry wished he was with his family. He wished that there someone… anyone who wanted and cared about him for him...

Not because he was the Boy-Who-Lived, or the savior of the wizarding world, but about _Harry_.

Just Harry.

That was all he'd ever wanted.

Was that too much to ask for?

Harry sighed and rested his cheek against the cold floorboard, trying unsuccessfully to push those thoughts out of his mind.

 _Maybe I should just kill myself off now, I could be with Sirius, Mum, Dad, and all my other relatives that I've never met._

It would certainly put him out of his misery and there would be no more pain…

But then who would defeat Voldemort? Could he leave his friends here with a madman still on the loose if he had the power to put an end to it?

He wasn't sure about that.

Voldemort had been the one who murdered his parents. He was the one who made his life this way. If anything, he was going to finish this war for his parents because they sacrificed so much for him.

They sacrificed their _lives_ for him.

Harry could honor their sacrifices, and hopefully make them proud.

By the way his life was going right now however, Harry didn't know how much more he could handle before he broke into a million pieces that couldn't be put back together. He was sick of being the Boy Who Lived. Nobody seemed to really understand what he was going through or what he had already gone through.

His friends did mean a lot to him and he was forever grateful to have had them by his side during all those difficult times. They have each other and their families, so he wouldn't be missed too much right?

Many thoughts continued to swirl around his mind, until his eyelids began to feel heavy and he let them fall shut, the exhaustion from the day starting to settle in. It wasn't long before sleep claimed him.


	2. The Letter

_The ominous forest filled with towering trees appeared to be endless as his legs were seemingly moving of their own accord. He was running, but he had no idea where he was going or why he was even running. Dry leaves and grass were crackling under his feet with every step. The only source of light was provided by the dim glow of the moonlight penetrating through patches of dark clouds._

 _In the distance, a single marble headstone suddenly came into view, directly in the middle of his path. He stopped when he reached it, noting how familiar it seemed. Just as he noticed what was written on the front, a figure appeared beside him._

 _Cedric._

 _And around him, that endless forest had disappeared, replaced by an eerily familiar graveyard._

 _He needed to run, needed to leave- but his feet seemed rooted to the spot._

 _His heart was thudding loudly against his ribcage, as if wanting to burst from its confines. He knew exactly what was going to happen next, and he had no way of stopping it._

 _Surely enough, a voice from behind said in a cold voice, "Kill the spare!"_

 _It was immediately followed by the dreaded, "Avada Kedavara!" creating a flash of green light that illuminated the surrounding graveyard._

 _"No, Cedric!" He tried shouting, but it was always too late and once again Cedric fell dead._

 _"Why did you get me killed Harry?" A voice suddenly said from beside him. It was Cedric, as a ghost, exactly how he looked when he came out of Voldemort's wand during the Prior Incantatem. "This is all your fault." Cedric's face contorted then, to an almost inhuman look._

 _"I-I'm sorry," he apologized, but knew that it wasn't going to be enough. It never was._

 _Suddenly their surroundings shifted and he was in the Department of Mysteries. Death Eaters and Order members were dueling around him, their multicolored spells flying all over the vast room, but Harry wasn't aware of any of that as his main focus was on one person dueling in front of the veil._

 _Just as Bellatrix cast the curse that sent Sirius stumbling into the veil, everything in the room appeared to have slowed down as if a time spell had been cast. Sirius suddenly looked straight at him, the disgusted expression on his face cut through Harry's heart._

 _"See what you've done, Harry. I'm dead because of you!" Sirius shouted at him, "You aren't worthy of being my godson."_

 _"No! P-please Sirius, I'm sorry," he said as he tried to make his way toward Sirius, hoping to grab his godfather before he fell through the veil._ _Harry desperately tried to reach Sirius, but with every step he took, he was getting further and further away._

 _Sirius had abruptly turned away then and fell through the veil, disappearing forever without even a backward glance at his grief stricken godson._

Harry gave a strangled gasp as he started awake, immediately regretting it as the movement caused him to wince from the burst of pain coming from his battered body. He noticed that he was breathing heavily and shaking badly, covered in sweat, as if he'd just finished running a marathon. The nightmare wasn't unusual; Harry had been having them quite often ever since that incident in his fourth year, but recently Sirius had started to become a part of them as well.

He tried to calm his frantically beating heart and shook his head, realizing that he was still on the hard floor of his bedroom. Attempting to make it onto his bed, Harry slowly tried pushing himself off the floor, only to fall back down with a groan as his damaged body protested to the movement.

Taking in some long deep breathes, he carefully lifted himself up off the floor and onto his worn down cot that the Dursleys provided for him. Once he finally got himself situated on his bed, Harry pulled the threadbare sheet over him, put his glasses on the small nightstand, and tried to drift off to sleep again.

It usually took awhile for him to fall asleep after one of his nightmares, but just as he was about to lose himself to unconsciousness once again, he heard a quiet _swoosh_ that caused him to jerk his head up. The movement jarred his already sore neck and he gave a slight groan as he gingerly rubbed it.

He reached for his glasses and put them back on before looking around to see what had happened. With the dim moonlight shining in from his window, Harry spotted a letter on the floor next to his bed.

Cautiously rising from his bed, he wondered where the letter had come from as it surely wasn't there before. It couldn't have come from an owl— the window was locked and Uncle Vernon had reinstalled the bars on his window.

It could be a trap… Or maybe a portkey—

A floral scent that seemed somehow familiar suddenly surrounded him, and Harry slowly crept towards it until he could make out his name written on the front in an elegant handwriting he didn't recognize. His heart in his throat as he carefully picked up the envelope, realizing with a start who this could possibly be from.

 _But it can't be from her..._

Harry slowly broke the seal and opened the letter, unfolding the parchment with slightly trembling hands and began reading.

 _My dearest son,_

 _It is my greatest hope that you will never receive this letter, and I am there to tell you in person. However, if you are reading this now, it means that James and I are dead, a the protections put in place to keep us safe have failed, but at least you would eventually know the truth._

 _James is not your father. I had applied a charm that made you look like a mixture between James and myself. It is set to slowly wear off after your sixteenth birthday, finally revealing your true appearance. Hopefully by then, the war would have ended and your real father would still be alive._

 _His position in this war has become too dangerous for us to remain a family. Dumbledore had suggested that you and I would be safer with James for the time being due to the severity of the war. It was an incredibly difficult decision for your father and I to make. He and James have never been on very good terms, however, I would like to believe that there was a sort of truce between them while living with this arrangement._

 _Your father is a spy for the light, he is exceedingly brave and continues to put himself at risk for the sake of the wizarding world. Always having to conceal his true feeling from Voldemort is never an easy task. If he ever discovers that your father was a spy, he would be killed immediately._

 _Your biological father is Severus Snape. Even though he may seem like he has a cold exterior, he does have a heart that only few are fortunate enough to see. Your first words were "Dada" and every time he came home after a long day you would toddle over to him and climb onto his lap to cheer him up. Just as well, Severus possessed the incredibly rare talent of being able to calm you with just a few soft words in your ear when you were upset. You were his entire world, Harry, ever since the day you were born._

 _Severus had to have his memories removed to ensure that he does not get caught with them, after having a close encounter with Voldemort. Another letter will be sent to Severus and Dumbledore at the same time as you receive yours. I have included a vial of Severus' memories in his letter so he could remember all the good times we had as a family. Please find Severus, and help him remember. He will need you as much as you need your father._

 _Never forget Harry, you are so loved._

 _Your mother,_

 _Lily Snape_

For the longest time, Harry just stared at the letter in disbelief, his fingers having gone numb. A swell of contradicting emotions swept over him as he reread it over and over…

 _Is it true? Is Snape really my father?_

His mum... and _Snape_?

Scenes of the memory he witnessed in Snape's office flashed through his mind.

She'd defended him… but he'd called her a...

 _No, it can't be…_

 _How did this happen?_

The strict potions professor who had tormented and belittled him for the past five years at Hogwarts was his father?

A wave of anger and bitterness surged through him at the injustice of it all.

Why did the man who had _loathed_ him ever since he set eyes on him, have to be _his father_?

 _It's not fair._

Just then, Harry caught a glimpse of the clock on his desk from the corner of his eye and realized that it was just five minutes after midnight.

He was officially sixteen now.

"Happy birthday to me," Harry whispered sadly, lowering his eyes back to the letter.

He knew that he won't receive any gifts this time because he told his friends to hold his presents until he got back to Hogwarts. Usually he would have Hedwig to celebrate his birthday with him, but this year it was just him.

The Dursleys certainly never cared about his birthday as they actually went out of their way to make him more miserable. He remembered one year, Aunt Petunia had organized a party on his birthday and wouldn't allow Harry to join in. It turned out to be a day for Dudley to invite friends over and have fun while Harry was forced to listen through the slits in his cupboard. He remembered asking Aunt Petunia why he wasn't allowed to join in when he was young and received the simple answer: "Because freaks don't deserve it."

Ever since then, Harry wanted to prove her wrong and had tried hard not to be so _freaky,_ but despite his efforts, his relatives would always treat him the same way. They always glared at him as if he was an annoying piece of gum stuck to the bottom of their shoe. He had become resigned to the irrefutable fact that no matter what he did, he couldn't change the way the Dursleys saw him.

After a long moment of getting lost in his thoughts, he noticed that there was more in the envelope than just the letter from his mother. Four photos slipped out when Harry tipped the envelope upside down. All of them seemed to be wizard photos as the occupants were moving in a time loop.

The first one was apparently taken the day he was born. His mother could be seen in a hospital bed looking tired but the joy was apparent on her features as she was watching, to Harry's surprise, _Snape_ holding baby Harry in his arms. There was pride and amazement shown noticeably in Snape's usually cold eyes as he looked down at the tiny infant cradled in his arms. Then a small smile appeared on the man's usually stoic face as his thumb tenderly caressed the baby's soft cheek. Harry couldn't believe what he was seeing.

He would have never thought that Snape could be so... _gentle_ , considering the man in the picture was the same man who had always went out of his way to make him miserable at school.

Moving on to the second photo, Harry almost gasped when he saw himself on Snape's lap, the man gently bouncing the little toddler. Little Harry was grinning and giggling like mad the entire time. Then Snape did something that completely shocked Harry. He wrapped his arms around the happy toddler, pulling him close to lean him against his chest, and gently kissed the child on the temple. A look of pride and affection was shown clearly on his features.

Had there really been a time when Snape actually...

Harry shook his head and sighed _._

Obviously whatever feelings of affection Snape might have had for him was long gone now.

The next photo was also one of himself and Snape. He blinked, staring at it for a long time, hardly able to believe what he was seeing. Snape was dozing in a rocking chair, his arms wrapped tightly around the toddler who was sleeping contently against the man's chest. Harry couldn't help the little smile that involuntarily crept onto his face as he sat staring at the picture. He would have never imagined Snape— the _Greasy Git of the Dungeons_ — to have once rocked him to sleep, but here was the proof.

The last photo was of all three of them sitting at a kitchen table. Snape was trying to feed Harry in his high chair, the spoon's motions imitating a train that was headed towards the little boy's mouth. Lily sat on the other side of Harry, green eyes shining with amusement as she laughed at the scene. A scowl appeared on Snape's face, though it didn't reach his eyes, as little Harry squirmed out of the way, just as the spoon was about to reach the little toddler's mouth. He could see the barely concealed amusement in those usually cold black eyes.

Harry stared at this photo for the longest time, trying to remember every little detail of the perfectly captured moment. The way his mother's face lit up as she laughed, Snape's reaction to the little toddler's antics, and the younger version of himself.

 _Everyone looked so happy._

This was how a family should be, how growing up with loving parents would have been like. These moments spent with family that are treasured forever because they're priceless. Harry would give anything to have remembered those moments, to have remembered what it felt like to be held and cherished by people that wanted him and... _loved_ him.

Then an unbidden question came into his mind: Was there still a part of Snape that could still love him like he did back then?

Maybe he could finally have someone in his life that would care for him and who would want him.

So he wouldn't feel so _alone_.

But then again, did he even want that from Snape of all people? The cold, stern professor was a far cry from the warm and loving father he had just watched in the photos. It seemed highly unlikely for them to be even the same person.

 _Snape hates me_ , Harry thought bitterly, _what makes you think he will want to be your father?_

 _But he_ is _your father_ , a small voice in his head reminded him. _And he did look happy in those photos._

 _Maybe when he gets his memories back..._

 _No_ — Harry shook his head slightly _,_ he didn't want to hold onto too much hope that Snape would want to be his father.

There was a greater chance that Snape wouldn't want anything to do with him.

If he was rejected, the pain from that would be even worse than never hoping at all. The thought of knowing that even his own father didn't want him would reinforce what the Dursley's always told him. He was an unwanted freak and unworthy of being loved.

But still, a part of him was stubbornly refusing to let go, clinging tightly onto that tiny sliver of hope.


	3. Upending Revelations

Severus Snape was settled in his study, the sounds of a quill scratching parchment filling the room as he revised his class curriculums for the upcoming school term. Normally by this time in the summer, he would have already finished his school duties, however, this summer differed vastly in comparison to his past summers.

He was just finishing the second years syllabus when a knock on his door interrupted his work. After a clearly spoken _enter_ , the door cracked open just enough for a boy with dark brown hair and black eyes to peek through into the room.

"Didn't I tell you not disturb me this morning?" Severus asked, glancing up at the fourteen year old.

"Yeah, but I'm bored and there's nothing to do here," the boy replied as he sauntered into the room and plopped himself down into a chair positioned in front of the large oak desk.

"And that warrants disrupting my work?" Severus raised an eyebrow.

The boy didn't answer, only giving a small shrug as Severus set his quill down and folded his arms across the desk.

"Well, I certainly would not have any trouble giving you additional assignments, if you have difficulty finding something productive to occupy your time, Kieran."

Kieran made a face and quickly shook his head. He leaned forward in his seat, "I came to ask if you wanted to go flying with me."

"As I have said before, I have a lot of work in preparation for the new term—"

He was interrupted by a groan, "But Dad, you've been holed up in here all day already!"

Severus gave the boy a disapproving glare at the interruption, though it didn't have the customary effect on Kieran as it usually did on his students.

"Let's go get some fresh air... and _sunlight,_ " Kieran said, glancing out the window, warm streams of sunlight filtering in. He turned back to Severus and smirked, "Which is what you sort of need right now, anyway."

"Cheeky brat," Severus muttered. He glanced at the clock, noting that he had spent a good amount of hours seated at his desk. Perhaps it was time for him to take a break, if only to stretch his stiff limbs.

"Very well, go retrieve your broom. I'll meet you out there momentarily," he conceded, waving his son off.

Kieran grinned, nearly knocking the chair over in his excitement as he stood and hastily left the room without another word. Severus shook his head at his son's antics, as he stood, stretching his legs. It seemed he'd inadvertently developed a soft spot for his son, ever since the boy came to stay with him for the summer.

He had been reluctant to believe it when the boy's mother sought him out and told him the previous year, but Clarice had explained what had happened, providing some proof. When Severus had met the boy, he couldn't deny some resemblance between the boy and himself. Kieran looks similar to how Severus had at his age, the differences being that fortunately, his son didn't inherit his hooked nose, and his hair was dark brown which he inherited from his mother.

At first, Severus didn't want to have anything to do with the boy, having been accustomed to living alone for very long time now, until Clarice had managed to convince him to get to know his son and be a part of the boy's life. Therefore, Kieran was now staying with him for the summer at Prince Manor, a home that Severus had inherited from his mother's side. He had rarely stayed there before, mostly preferring to stay in his quarters at Hogwarts over the fairly large sized property by himself.

It was strange sharing a home with someone at first, but soon Severus found he didn't particularly mind spending time with the boy and getting to know him. Severus could admit, if only to himself, that he rather enjoyed the company and having someone to take care of and to call yours. His son was certainly more tolerable than the idiotic students he had to teach every year.

Severus was still fairly new to the whole concept of fatherhood, and considering his own dreadful childhood, it was no wonder why he was inexperienced with the ways of parenting. He didn't exactly have any competent role models. The thought had terrified him at first, suddenly realizing he had a son, when he never planned on having a family. And the only person he ever considered having that with was long dead.

Lily was the only person who saw a different side of him and the only person he had ever opened up to. That side was now concealed and locked away after she went and married James Potter and had the Potter spawn. Ever since then, Severus had put up a firmly constructed wall, not allowing anyone in. Deep down he knew that the only person he could ever love was Lily.

"C'mon, Dad!" a shout from Kieran snapped Severus out of his thoughts. He looked up to see the boy waiting eagerly by the door, his newly polished broom clutched in his hand.

Not wanting to keep his son waiting, Severus retrieved his own broom and followed him outside. They flew around together in the extensive backyard until sunset.

As Severus was finishing his work that evening, he thought about all that had changed in his life since he had found out about his son.

It had been a one night stand with Clarice, in his attempt to drink away his grief after that fateful Halloween night. His recollections of that night were foggy at best. He had been so drunk that it happened without him knowing. It was only the morning after when he woke up in bed with Clarice next to him that he realized what had happened. Clarice had apparently been trying to offer comfort and Kieran came into existence because of it. Even though Severus didn't have feelings for Clarice, far from it in fact, he was just trying to be a good father to their son.

Severus had been worried that he couldn't provide everything that Kieran wanted. The boy had been spoiled with extravagant gifts of the best quality by his mother ever since birth. Severus had never seen himself as wealthy by any means, even if he was a highly esteemed Potions Master and had plenty of money in his vaults to last him his lifetime. Severus just bought what he needed and nothing more, preferring not to waste money on frivolous items that had no use.

His thoughts were abruptly cut off when he felt a shift in the magic of the room. Severus stilled and quickly pulled out his wand, prepared for anything that could have caused the change in the air.

Suddenly, a thick letter materialized out of thin air and landed gently on the floor in front of him. He cautiously moved towards it, casting all sorts of revealing charms on it to make sure it didn't contain any curses. After finding nothing out of the ordinary, Severus picked up the letter and turned it over. What he saw made his breath catch in his throat. He had to take a seat on the settee, his legs were buckling underneath him.

On the front of the letter was his name, written in familiar handwriting he thought he'd never see again.

 _Impossible... It can't be…_

His long fingers carefully broke the seal of the envelope and slowly took out the letter with as much care as if it was the most precious thing in the world.

A floral scent filled the air around him and he had to suppress the memories it brought up.

 _Dear Severus,_ it began.

 _First and foremost, Harry is your son, not James._

 _You always said you wanted to fulfill your role to ensure a safer world for our son to live in, but I wish we didn't have to resort to these measures. I hope when this letter reaches you, the war is over and you are no longer a spy for the Order._ _I have been wanting to tell you this for so long now and return your true memories. You had decided it would be best to have your memories removed to keep us safe when Voldemort grew suspicious of your role in the war. Dumbledore had suggested that Harry and I would stay safe here with James, and let everyone believe we were together._

 _Harry has a glamour on that makes him resemble James. I wish every day that I could take it off and have him appear as he was meant to. Harry reminds me so much of you, yet the perfect mixture of the both of us. I believe he has inherited your stubbornness and both our tempers, which can be quite a troublesome pairing sometimes._

 _I don't think I will ever forget the look of pride on your face when you held our son in your arms for the first time. You can sneer and scowl at me all you want, Severus, but Harry had you simply wrapped around his little finger. I miss the days when you would come home and fall asleep in the rocking chair with Harry snuggled up against you._

 _There are some days when I still expect to see you come through the door… On those rare occasions when we have visitors, Harry still toddles over as fast as he can, as if hoping to be the first one to greet you and be scooped up into your arms, just as he always did whenever you came home from a long day._

 _Ever since you left, Harry has missed you so. Recently, he threw a tantrum, causing his first incidence of accidental magic that almost broke every glass in the house. Quite an impressive feat for a one year old. He was calling for you. Harry has been doing that a lot lately, and my heart breaks every time, knowing I can't do anything about it. The stuffed doe you gave him is always tucked underneath his chin every night; he can't seem to fall asleep without it. At least Harry still has that to provide him comfort through these difficult times._

 _I keep telling myself this situation is temporary, that everything will turn out fine in the end, but I'm starting to sound like a broken record player. I miss you Sev. Every day when we receive the latest edition of the Daily Prophet, I wonder where you are and whether you're safe. This blasted war has torn my family apart and I don't know how much longer I can take. I can only hope that one day we will be reunited as a family again._

 _But if that time never comes, I wrote letters to you, Harry, and Dumbledore, returning your memories and explaining everything on Harry's sixteenth birthday. Your true memories will replace the false ones, once you see them. Please look at them and remember, Sev. Remember all the good times we spent together as a family, and even though it was such a short amount of time, they were still the best times of my life._

 _Please find our son. Harry needs his father. You were a great father then and you still are._

 _Please take care of our son._

 _I love you, Sev. Always._

 _Your wife,_

 _Lily Snape_

Severus sat quite still for some time, staring down at the letter and rereading it over and over. His mind seemed to be temporarily unable to comprehend the words written in front of him…

 _Lily and I were married? We had a son together?_

The boy who lived to torment every waking hour of Severus' day with his arrogance and foolish recklessness for the last five years was not a _Potter_?

It was as if his entire world had been turned upside down...

 _How the bloody hell did this happen?_

He wondered which of his memories were true and which were fabricated.

Severus knew for a fact that Lily had ended their friendship after he had called her that foul word in a time of humiliation. His attempts at apologizing were for naught, as she never forgave him, and ever since then, he had been regretting that day. He would go back and change it, if he could. From that day forth, his emotions were buried deeply behind layers of his Occlumency shields, but every time he had seen Lily with Potter, all that anger, bitterness, and self loathing would rise to simmer just below the surface.

When Severus first saw their eleven year old son in the Great Hall, messy black hair with round glasses and the spitting image of James Potter, all the bitterness and hatred re-emerged and was spilled fully on the boy.

Those blasted green eyes, _Lily's eyes_ , always reminded Severus of what he could have had.

 _Well somehow, he was yours all along, Severus…_

He came out of his shock a few moments later and carefully took out the vial of swirling silver white memories that came with the letter.

Should he look at them? Did he want to? Did he even want to be Potter's father? But he wasn't really a _Potter_ , was he?

Severus shook his head and scowled. _No. I just found out I already have a son, there was no need for another, especially not Potter._

No doubt the boy wouldn't accept him as his father anyway. His relatives must pamper and spoil him— why would he want to leave them? Besides, he was still that arrogant, rule breaking, attention-seeking, impertinent teenager from school, even if he wasn't a Potter. His behavior was in every way similar to James Potter's.

 _But he's yours and Lily's_. A tiny voice in his head said. _He's the last thing left of Lily's._

Severus firmly shut that voice up, pushing that thought to the very back corner of his mind, and locked the door.

Of course, somehow, Potter always seemed to find a way to disrupt his life.

He stalked back over to his desk, and with a sharp flick of his wand, his top desk drawer flew open.

No, he wasn't going to let the brat ruin this perfectly good summer with Kieran.

Apparently coming to a decision, Severus gently set the vial of memories and the letter in the drawer, telling himself that he would look at them at a later time. Then he warded it shut, ensuring it couldn't be opened by anyone other than himself.

After finishing everything, Severus stalked out of his study and went straight for his bedroom, only pausing briefly to glance into Kieran's room as he passed. His son was on his stomach, snoring into his pillow, one arm dangling off the side of the bed. With a very fleeting upward twitch of his lips, Severus continued on his way to his own room where he fell into a restful sleep, not even sparing a second thought to the fact that he had just found out he had _another_ son.


	4. Discussions to Tantrums

It was days like these that Severus enjoyed the most. There was nothing disturbing the silence except his mechanical crushing and grinding of his pestle and the softly simmering cauldrons beside him. Just as he was about to add the powdered Bicorn horn to the batches of Pepper-up potion he was brewing for the Hogwarts infirmary when the alarm that signaled a Floo call sounded. There were only a handful of people that would ever Floo call him, considering Severus mainly preferred to keep to himself and rarely invited friends over.

 _Must be Dumbledore_ , he thought with a scowl as he cast a stasis charm over the cauldrons to prevent the potions from spoiling, _the old man better have a good reason to disrupt my afternoon._

He quickly stalked to his study.

"Good afternoon, Severus," Dumbledore said jovially from the fireplace once Severus stepped foot into his study. "There is a rather important matter I would like to discuss with you. Please come to my office." Without waiting for a reply, his head disappeared from the fire.

Severus gave an irritated sigh.

After informing a house elf that he was leaving and to keep an eye on Kieran while he was away, Severus stepped gracefully out of the fireplace and into the headmaster's office at Hogwarts.

Fawkes greeted him as he usually did, trilling gleefully at his entrance. Severus regarded him with a sideways glare, then turned his attention to the other colorful occupant in the room.

"What is it we need to discuss, Headmaster?" Severus asked without preamble.

"Have a seat, my boy," Dumbledore said. He gestured toward a shiny metal tin at the edge of his desk, "Lemon drop?"

"No, thank you," Severus replied with a touch of impatience, seating himself in that wooden chair in front of Dumbledore's desk.

Dumbledore happily popped a small yellow sweet into his mouth, taking his time to savor the treat as he fished out a piece of parchment from one of his desk drawers. He held it up, and Severus immediately recognized the handwriting.

"I have just received a letter from Lily, as I am certain you have as well," said Dumbledore. "She made me aware of Harry's true parentage."

Severus stiffened, he'd forgotten that Lily mentioned Dumbledore would have received a letter as well. He gave a curt nod, and Dumbledore continued, "Now that we know Harry has another blood relative, I am considering transferring the blood wards from—"

"Absolutely not!" Severus interrupted, knowing exactly where this conversation was heading. "I am not allowing the brat to reside in my home," he said firmly, pausing for a moment, before continuing, "I have just recently discovered that I have a son, who is currently staying with me, and I will not have Potter disrupting both our lives."

Of course, Dumbledore wanted the brat to move in with him. He had just gotten used to having Kieran live with him and getting to know the boy. Adding Potter into it would no doubt cause problems. Problems that Severus never wanted to deal with.

"I see," Dumbledore said as he laced his fingers together. "Why did you not inform me?"

"Because I am not obligated to inform you about everything that goes on in my personal life!" Severus snapped, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

Dumbledore nodded, not at all fazed by Severus' outburst. "Well, I am sure Harry will be pleased to know he has a brother," he merely said, smiling.

Severus snorted, "The boy's most likely being happily spoiled rotten by his relatives anyway. Why not just leave him there?"

Dumbledore looked at him over his half moon spectacles and clicked his tongue, "Severus, you are Harry's father. He deserves to have love and support at difficult times like these."

"All of which he already receives from his adoring relatives and friends, not to mention his plethora of fans," Severus sneered.

Dumbledore sighed, "I implore you to reevaluate your judgement of the boy."

"There is nothing to reevaluate, Albus. The boy is impertinent, attention-seeking, and arrogant just like James Potter. He is also reckless and impulsive, considering what had occurred at the ministry, endangering his friends, and constantly playing the hero," Severus stated matter of factly.

Dumbledore didn't respond right away, leaning back into his chair. "I feel it is often best to consider what lies beneath to truly understand a person," he finally said, his gaze seeming to pierce through Severus.

"What are you implying, Dumbledore?" Severus scowled and pointed a smoldering glare at the old wizard, "Have you forgotten I have had to watch over the boy these last five years?"

"Not at all, Severus. I merely hoped you would have come to terms with your childhood grudges," Dumbledore said calmly.

The only hint that Severus was angry was that his lips had thinned into a line, other than that his face was carefully emotionless at Dumbledore' words. Of course he hadn't gotten over his grudges against James Potter. He took everything away from Severus, mainly Lily. Not to mention the constant humiliation and torment he and his cohorts put Severus through during all their years at Hogwarts. Currently, every time Severus saw their son who looks exactly like James Potter, but with Lily's beautiful eyes, it pulled forth unpleasant memories that he wanted to keep locked away and buried in the back of his mind forever.

After a few minutes of silence, Dumbledore spoke again, "Harry is going to have to stay with you, Severus. The guardianship will be transferred over, and since you are his father, the blood wards will be stronger with you."

"No. He is still the same rule breaking troublemaker he has always been, even if he is my... _son_." Saying that word in reference with Potter left a bad taste in his mouth. "That changes nothing."

"Severus—"

"No, Albus! I don't want to have anything to do with the brat!"

"It is my final word," Dumbledore said firmly.

Severus gave a long sigh in defeat, knowing there was no point in arguing any further with Dumbledore. Try as he might, he could never win their arguments.

"Very well," Severus reluctantly said through clenched teeth, after a long moment.

"I will be transferring the blood wards to you and will retrieve Harry from his relatives tomorrow. Make sure to have all the accommodations ready." Dumbledore pulled out a blank piece of parchment and a quill from his desk. He started to write a letter as he continued, "I will need to have a discussion with Harry, he might be distraught..."

After Dumbledore finished explaining his plans, Severus stood up and grabbed a pinch of Floo powder, eager to return home. Just as he was about to shout out his destination, Dumbledore stopped him by saying, "Get to know the boy, Severus, you may chance upon some surprising revelations."

The old man's blue eyes were twinkling, like the stars on his irritatingly colorful purple robes he was sporting.

Severus turned his back to him, rolling his eyes. _As if._

"Prince Manor," he muttered, throwing the Floo powder into the fireplace and watching the green flames swell forth.

"Don't forget, he is your son, you and Lily's."

 _Damn the old coot._

Severus just scowled and gave a menacing glare back at Dumbledore before he vanished in the green flames of the Floo.

* * *

Later that evening, Severus went to one of the spare bedrooms in the manor. Choosing the small room in a far away corner of the manor, he called for a house elf and told it to freshen up the room. There was a thick layer of dust settled on all the furniture, obviously from being unoccupied for so long.

If he was going to have to put up with the brat for the rest of the summer, he wanted to put as much distance between his and Kieran's rooms. Even if he wasn't a Potter, he was still a trouble magnet.

He purposefully told the house elf to leave the walls bare and the furniture in this room wasn't near as elegant as their rooms.

 _No need to spoil the already pampered prince,_ thought Severus, _I want to be clear that he's not going to get that from me._

After giving his orders, he strode back towards his study to get a little more work done before turning in for the night. On the way there, he pondered how he should tell Kieran about Potter coming to stay with them. The boy's presence would no doubt cause some disturbances.

Severus put off telling Kieran about their new guest until after breakfast the next day. He found that he completely underestimated Kieran's reaction to it. He knew there was going to be some protests, but he didn't anticipate the full blown temper tantrum.

"You can't be serious, Dad!" Kieran screwed his face up, "Harry Potter's your son? So he's sort of like my… _brother_?"

"Mind your tone, Kieran," Severus said, a warning in his voice. He was surprised at the disgust in Kieran's voice.

His son huffed, "Why's he coming to stay with us? Doesn't he live with his relatives or something?"

Severus gave an agitated sigh and ran a thin hand through his hair. "Professor Dumbledore has decided to transfer his guardianship over to me, because of our… _relations_ , the blood wards are expected to be stronger."

Kieran furrowed his brows, "What blood wards?"

Severus waved the topic away as unimportant, and simply responded with, "They're for his protection."

Kieran crossed his arms, "And your just letting Dumbledore tell you what to do? Just like that?"

"I am not liking this situation any better than you are."

Kieran let out an irritated sigh, glaring down at the tabletop. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if debating whether to vocalize his thoughts, then he said, "How you could have a son with a... a _Mudblood_!"

"I am aware that you are upset, but do _not_ ever use that word in front of me again!" Severus hissed, his voice a dangerous whisper as he roughly gripped the tabletop. He struggled to rein in his anger before he did something he might regret.

 _How dare he call Lily that?_

"No! I don't want Potter here! He's going to ruin everything!" Kieran shouted, something indistinguishable flickering through his dark eyes that Severus couldn't place. He was a bit surprised at the hatred already present in Kieran's tone.

"I suggest you lower your voice," Severus said, in his most menacing voice, splaying his hands on top of the table. It could have scared away even his fifth year students. This time, his glare made Kieran flinch back slightly, though the defiant look never left the boy's face.

"Now, go to your room and stay there! I need to calm down before we discuss this subject any further," Severus ordered in a tone that brook no arguments.

Kieran opened his mouth as if he was about to protest, but the intense expression on Severus' face stopped him. Instead, he snapped his mouth shut and defiantly lifted his chin as he turned to strut out of the room.

A few moments later, the slamming of a door reverberated throughout the halls of the manor.

 _Why are teenagers so melodramatic?_

Severus dropped his face into his hands and gave a long sigh. How was he ever going to handle taking care of two teenage boys?

From the reaction he received from Kieran, Severus knew that it was going to be hard keeping both boys from killing each other. Given Potter's recklessness and arrogance and combining that with Kieran's hot attitude and pompousness, Severus was going to have his hands full for the next few weeks.

He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache building.

How was he ever going to survive the rest of the summer?

* * *

Kieran swiftly kicked the side of his dresser, his big toe painfully taking the brunt of the force, but he didn't care at the moment.

He couldn't believe. How was he possibly related to Harry Potter of all people?

Mother always said Potter was nothing special, just some boy who somehow survived the killing curse and became famous for it. He had the world at his fingertips, being bloody praised for his _incredible_ feat. Potter most likely had his relatives waiting on him hand and foot at this very moment, probably fawning over his every whim.

And now Potter was coming to stay with them. Kieran was sure his father wouldn't cater to Potter's every need, but the thought of sharing his recently found father with someone else made him unbelievably irritated. This was supposed to be the summer when he'd finally get the chance to know his father, after all these years of wondering what the man was like.

Kieran huffed, belly flopping onto his bed and burying his face in the pillows. When Kieran had been younger, he'd actually longed for a sibling, but now he couldn't comprehend why he had even wanted one to begin with. Perhaps he'd been bored or lonely, but Kieran figured he'd rather be both than to have to share his father with Potter.

What if his father somehow ends up liking Potter more? What then?

Kieran rolled onto his back, glaring up at the top of his four poster bed. No, he wasn't going to stand for Potter intruding into his life. He'd made it his mission to finally bring his mother and father together, and be the family he'd always dreamt of. No so-called half brother was going to get in his way.


	5. The Final Departure

The next morning came bright and early as a loud knocking at the door woke Harry from his restless sleep. "Get up boy and start making breakfast!" Aunt Petunia's cold shrill voice said from the other side of the door as he heard her unlocking all the locks.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry replied as loud as he could, attempting to carefully get out of bed.

It dawned on him that today was his sixteenth birthday, but like usual, the Dursleys acted like it was any other day. He just wished that Aunt Petunia didn't call on him to do any chores today, especially after last night's punishment.

He looked down at his shirt and decided that he definitely needed to change clothes. The shirt he was wearing was completely ruined with blood stains all over it. He let out a soft groan as he went over to his dresser and pulled out one of Dudley's old t-shirts that had a hole in the armpit area. As carefully as he could, Harry pulled the ruined shirt up over his head and grimaced as some of the crusty scabs from the wounds came off with it.

When his shirt was finally off, he took a look at his battered body. It looked as if he went through a jungle and barely made it out alive. Bruises ran down the front of his chest and along his sides. There was barely any part of his upper body that wasn't black and blue. Concentrating hard, Harry put up strong glamours to conceal the bruises and welts on his face and arms.

 _Wouldn't want anyone to find out how the hero of the wizarding world really looks_ , Harry thought bitterly.

Ever since the first time Uncle Vernon had punished him a few days before he was due back at Hogwarts, Harry had learned how to put up glamours to cover up the damage done. It was the only thing that he could do wandlessly.

On his way out of the room, Harry caught a glimpse of the letter from his mother on his desk where he had left it. The memories from last night suddenly came flooding back.

Snape was his father. They were once a happy family. Apparently, Snape was capable of showing emotions other than annoyance, anger, and hatred.

He still had a hard time wrapping his head around all this. Never in a million years would Harry have believed Snape to be so human if he hadn't seen those photos for himself.

Given the amount of loathing Snape had for him, it was obvious that the man seen in those photos was not the potions professor that Harry had known for the past five years.

 _He probably doesn't want anything to do with me._

If he did he would come get Harry and take him away from the Dursleys. But just like all things in his life, his hopes never meant anything.

Harry gave a long sigh before he walked out of his room, down the stairs, and into the kitchen where he began preparing breakfast for his relatives.

* * *

It was after lunch time and right when Harry had finished cooking, Aunt Petunia had locked him out of the house, ordering him to trim the hedges and clean up the flower beds. So Harry was once again outside in the garden, pulling more weeds.

The aching from in his body prevented him from working too fast and he felt as if he was working at a snail's pace. The hot afternoon sun wasn't helping as its heat only caused him to sweat, making his back to feel as if it was burning. Wanting some relief from the harsh rays, Harry sought shelter under the large oak tree. He noticed Aunt Petunia and Dudley watching the telly with their backs facing him and used the opportunity to rest a little under the shade of the tree.

He sat with his knees pulled up and his arms hanging loosely around them. Usually the chores helped take his mind off of things, but today his body seemed to have been working automatically while his mind was filled with many thoughts swirling around each other. Mostly all of them were centered on what he just learned yesterday.

He was trying to understand how his most hated teacher could be his father. Snape hated him, and Harry had a hard time processing how that man in the photos could be the same man that loathed him for the past five years. Maybe there was a part of the man from the photos still in his sneering and snarky potions professor.

Perhaps, it would be different, once Snape learned the truth... Just maybe...

 _Or maybe he'll deny it and laugh in my face for believing such stupidity_ , Harry thought as he pulled up some grass and started ripping them to shreds.

A brown tawny owl suddenly landed next to him then, effectively pulling him from his thoughts and causing him to flinch violently. Wind from it's feather ruffled Harry's already messy black hair. The owl stuck it's leg out and gave a soft hoot, signaling for Harry to untie the letter.

"Thanks," Harry said to the owl. It responded with a hoot and then took off into the distance.

Harry gave another glance at his aunt and cousin, ascertaining that their attention was still focused on the telly before proceeding to open the letter addressed to him.

 _Harry,_

 _I will be arriving at Privet Drive tomorrow to retrieve you from the Dursley's. There has been a change of circumstances and you will no longer have to stay with your relatives._

 _Please be prepared to leave tomorrow morning when I arrive. I will explain everything to you then._

 _Albus Dumbledore_

Harry blinked, rereading the short letter again.

Dumbledore was coming to take him away tomorrow? He wouldn't have to live with the Durlsey's anymore? Then where was he going to stay? The letter seemed incredibly vague, but nonetheless, Harry was more than glad to leave.

Then another thought occurred to him. Did Dumbledore know Snape was his father? Was he going to go live with Snape? Why else would he get to leave the Dursleys and the blood wards surrounding Privet Drive?

Surprisingly, Harry found himself hoping that he was. All he had ever wanted was for someone to care about him. Like what parents did for kids that they seem to take for granted. Someone he could trust and be able to talk to when he had problems.

But this was Snape he was talking about. Was Dumbledore going to force Harry onto another person that didn't want him?

 _Well I'll just try my best not to screw this up_ , he thought, not knowing how desperate he sounded.

* * *

The next day finally came and Harry was looking at the things laid out on his bed that he was going to take with him. His photo album that he had received from Hagrid and the letter from his mother including the pictures that came with it, were among the few precious items he owned. Once he finished deciding what to take with him, Harry put all of his things on his desk and planned to ask Dumbledore to get his padlocked trunk from the cupboard so he could put them with the rest of his possessions.

Then he sat anxiously on his bed while he waited for Dumbledore's arrival. The letter didn't mention where Harry was going to stay, but he had an idea of where Dumbledore was going to put him. The blood wards only worked with living relatives...

Last night, his thoughts were consumed with thoughts of Snape's reaction to their relationship.

 _How did he take it?_ _Did he believe it? Did he get his memories back?_

Harry would give anything to see those memories and to be able to remember something of his mother, other than her screams and pleads for his life.

It was one of those days where Uncle Vernon didn't have work and Harry was locked in his room all day. He was all the more happy for having a chore free day, but on these days, it seemed that the Dursleys just ignored his existence altogether and didn't feed him either.

He decided not to mention that the headmaster of his school was going to come and take him away to the Dursleys. His aunt and uncle would no doubt have a fit if they knew a wizard was going to visit their perfect home. They would probably celebrate that he was leaving for good though. It was expressed too many times to count that Harry was unwanted here and they were eager to be rid of their burden.

The doorbell rang, and Harry hastily went to his bedroom door, putting his ear against it. Soon he could hear bits and pieces of Aunt Petunia's "What are you doing here?" and Uncle Vernon's "Your kind aren't welcome in my house!" Everything went silent after a few moments, indicating to Harry that his relatives had lost the battle and Dumbledore had entered the house. When he heard brisk footsteps coming up the stairs, Harry jumped back from the door and retook his seat on his bed. There was the brief fiddling and clicking of the numerous locks, then the door creaked open and Aunt Petunia looked in with a sour expression on her face.

"Someone's here for you," Aunt Petunia simply said.

"Alright," Harry replied as he followed her downstairs and to the sitting room.

The sight that met him was quite laughable.

Dumbledore was wearing a long black traveling cloak and a pointed hat, seated in a multicolored armchair and taking everything in with mild interest. He looked ridiculously out of place.

Sitting on the couch across the room from him was Uncle Vernon, his face beet red, a vein pulsing dangerously on his temple while Dudley was trying to press himself as much as he could into the cushions, his hands underneath his overlarge behind. Neither said a word to Harry as he entered the room, though when Uncle Vernon turned his beady eyes to him, he looked as if he was about to say something, but thought better of it. Aunt Petunia joined the pair on the couch and wrapped an arm around Dudley's trembling shoulders.

"Good afternoon, Harry," Dumbledore greeted pleasantly.

"Good afternoon, Professor," Harry replied politely, taking a seat in the remaining armchair close to the fire. The tension in the room could have been cut through with a knife.

"How are you, Harry?"

"Fine, sir." Harry said automatically.

"Can we get on with it?" Aunt Petunia's sharp voice cut in.

"Of course, Mrs. Durlsey. Harry is no longer required to stay here. He will not be returning," Dumbledore said, getting straight to the point.

"Good riddance!" Uncle Vernon exclaimed, crossing his arms across his large form. "Was a no good waste of space anyway."

Dumbledore cleared his throat, then pierced Aunt Petunia with a disapproving look over his half moon spectacles, "I had hoped that you would treat your nephew like your own when I left him in your care. Lily was your sister. No matter the differences between you two, she would have wanted you to have treated her son better than you have."

"We never wanted him, he was nothing more than a burden. Nothing more than an abnormal _freak_. We could never have grown to love him," Aunt Petunia replied with a scowl, not affected at all by Dumbledore's disapproval. Harry felt as if he was punched in the stomach. Of course he had always known what his relatives had thought of him, but to hear it said so bluntly... it hurt. Especially coming from Aunt Petunia because he was related by blood to her, she was his mother's _sister_ after all.

Dumbledore turned to Harry, "Go retrieve your things, Harry. I will be up shortly. We need to discuss a few matters before we leave."

"Yes, sir."

He went up to his room and sat down on his bed to wait for Dumbledore. His eyes drifted to the letter that was on his desk with the rest of his things. Not a minute later, Dumbledore came into the room and closed the door.

"All right Harry, we need to discuss your new living arrangements," Dumbledore started as he went to pulled out the old chair in front of Harry's desk and took a seat in it, "I have received a letter from your mother."

Harry gave a slight nod and Dumbledore continued, "Your mother informed me of your relationship to Professor Snape and he has agreed to let you stay with him for the rest of the summer."

 _Snape had agreed?_ Somehow Harry didn't think that Snape agreed to the arrangement easily.

On the one hand, he was kind of glad that he can stay with Snape and maybe try to get to know him. It was at least worth a try. But then Harry remembered the cold obsidian eyes always full of loathing whenever they landed on him, reminding him of the fact that Snape despised him. Despite that, Snape had saved his life numerous times as well. That little bit of hope reemerged as the numerous incidents flashed through his mind.

 _Maybe he remembered, maybe he doesn't hate me anymore... Or not that much..._

"I'm afraid I have wronged you Harry," Dumbledore said breaking Harry out of his thoughts. "It seems it was a terrible idea to leave you in the care of the Dursleys, but I thought it was the best option at the time. Petunia is your mother's sister, I had hoped she would treat you as if you were her own. I had thought that it was for the best to leave you with family, but the Dursleys were never family were they?"

"No, sir. They never treated me as part of their family," Harry replied softly.

"I apologize, Harry." Dumbledore said softly, his blue eyes dimmed as he gave Harry's shoulder a quick squeeze.

Harry dropped his gaze to his hands that were resting on his lap. He just nodded, not quite knowing what to say. Dumbledore just apologized for leaving him with the Durlseys? He didn't know whether he should feel angry at Dumbledore for leaving him there in the first place or for making him come back every summer. Harry could sort of see why Dumbledore would have thought that it was the best choice because Aunt Petunia was his only living relative... that he knew of at least.

"Hopefully with this new arrangement you will receive what you have been missing."

Again Harry just nodded, not knowing what he should say.

"I am pleased to have found out, my boy," Dumbledore said with a light smile causing Harry to look at him with surprise. His blue eyes were twinkling, "I know you and Severus never got along in the past, but please try to Harry. There is no one that I trust more to keep you safe."

"Does he even want me as a son?" Harry blurted out before he could stop himself.

Dumbledore hesitated as if contemplating his response, "Just be optimistic Harry. It will be a rough road ahead but it will not be like that forever."

Harry sighed, _I'll take that as a no._

"Never give up hope Harry," Dumbledore said as if sensing Harry's thoughts.

"Professor, how's Remus?" Harry had wanted to know for a while how his former professor was fairing, now that the last of his best friends was gone. He had to look away as the familiar feeling of guilt crept into his mind once again.

"Everything is fine, Harry. Remus is on a mission and should return shortly," Dumbledore replied, then he laced his fingers together. "There is also another matter rather important matter we need to discuss, before we depart." When he saw that he had Harry's full attention, he continued, "I have discovered very valuable information that will be crucial to winning this war."

"Does it have something to do with Voldemort, sir?" Harry asked, now intrigued at what Dumbledore was revealing to him. After being left in the dark for most of his fifth year, Harry was glad that Dumbledore was now including him in the war effort. _About time, if I'm going to be the one that has to defeat Voldemort._

"Yes, it is. You will be taking private lessons with me this year," Dumbledore replied. "The information is very sensitive and not to be shared with the likes of anyone. I will inform you when term resumes. For now, you should enjoy the rest of the summer."

"Alright sir," Harry replied with a sigh. "Has there been any incidents with Voldemort recently? Or his Death Eaters?"

"He is recruiting more followers at the moment. There has also been a few Death Eater attacks on Muggles, but none that we could not handle. Voldemort has not made an appearance, but that will likely change as I have been informed that he is planning an attack. This is why you need to stay safe Harry, do not leave the blood wards without Severus," Dumbledore said gravely.

Harry nodded to show that he understood the severity of the situation.

After a few moments of silence, Dumbledore stood up and pushed the chair back in place, "Well, shall we be on our way?"

Harry picked up the little things he had laid out on his desk. "Um, sir? My trunk is locked in the cupboard under the stairs. Could you unlock it for me?"

"Of course, Harry," Dumbledore said as he went out the door, Harry following behind.

Once downstairs, Dumbledore opened the cupboard and levitated his trunk out. With a flick of his wand, he banished the many chains on the outside of it. After Harry put the rest of his things in the trunk, Dumbledore shrunk it. He then gave it to Harry, who put it in his jean pocket.

"Is that everything you are taking with you, Harry?"

"Yes, sir. I'm all set," Harry replied.

"Any last words to say to your relatives before we take our leave?" Dumbledore said as he looked at the three Dursleys who haven't moved from their places on the couch.

"No, sir," Harry said shaking his head.

"Very well." Dumbledore steered Harry toward the door. Before they stepped foot outside, Dumbledore waved his wand over the both of them, and Harry felt a cold tingling sensation running through him, from his head to his feet. "Disillusionment charm," the headmaster said simply. He looked

Once outside, Harry paused to take one last look at the only home he had ever known before turning his back on it for good. "This way." Dumbledore started walking in a brisk pace, with Harry walking next to him. They quickly arrived in an alley where it was safe to Apparate out of the view of any Muggles.

"Where does he live, Professor?" Harry asked.

"I believe you will find out soon enough," Dumbledore replied with one last look around. Then he held out his arm, "Hold on to my arm, Harry."

Harry grabbed on to the crook of his arm and the next thing he knew, everything went black. He felt as if he was being squeezed through a tight tube and found that he couldn't breathe. All of a sudden his feet touched solid ground and if it wasn't for him holding onto Dumbledore's arm, he would have fallen over.

"Did we just Apparate?" Harry asked, once his head stopped spinning.

"Yes, and you did quite well," Dumbledore smiled. "Most people vomit the first time."

"Yeah, I think I'll just stick to flying," Harry muttered.

Once he wasn't overcome with nausea, Harry realized that the dark alley near Privet Drive was gone and they were now standing before the front gates to an enormous, beautiful manor.

* * *

 **A/N:** _Thanks for the reviews! I'm so excited for how this story's going to develop. I've got it mostly outlined. Severus and Harry are going to finally be together in the next chapter!_


	6. A Prince's Manor

Severus was sitting in his armchair in the living room, the Daily Prophet in one hand and nursing a cup of coffee with the other. He was trying to keep his mind occupied so he could forget that the Brat-Who-Lived would be arriving with Dumbledore this afternoon. It was the last moments of peace and quiet before the impending chaos started and he wanted to make the most of it.

Kieran was staying with his mother at the moment and would be back at dinnertime. Severus was dreading the moment when Kieran and Potter meet. Considering the reaction he received from Kieran yesterday when he told him about Potter coming to stay with them, Severus was going to have a difficult time keeping them from hexing each other.

 _It was going to be a long end to the summer_ , Severus thought with a groan.

He had decided to write up a list of chores for Potter to do to keep him out of trouble. No doubt the boy hadn't worked a day in his life at his relatives, always being pampered and coddled over. Severus was going to be quite clear that Potter wasn't going to be receiving that sort of treatment from him. He was not going to allow him to laze around all day that was for sure. Hopefully the chores would teach Potter to appreciate hard work and that not everything could be handed to him on a silver platter.

As the time moved closer to the afternoon, Severus could no longer ignore the fact that Potter would be arriving at any moment now.

* * *

It was a beautiful manor that stood majestically in the afternoon sunlight. Just by looking at the front yard, Harry could see that it was well kept and everything was pristine. He couldn't believe that Snape actually resides here, not that he was complaining, it was a million times better than the Dursleys.

 _Well anything was better than the Dursleys_.

Harry started following Dumbledore on the path toward the front door, all the while looking around in amazement at the beautifully kept landscape surrounding the gigantic manor.

"This is Prince Manor, Harry," Dumbledore said as they walked.

"It's beautiful sir," Harry replied, taking in the sights around him. _This is Snape's house?_

"It certainly is."

When they were steps away from reaching the front door, Harry saw a figure dressed in black step out. Immediately, he recognized it as Severus Snape with greasy hair, hooked nose, and an irritated expression. This was the first time that he had seen the man since finding out Snape was his father. His heart began beating loudly, feeling as if it was going to burst out of his chest. Harry didn't think he had ever been this nervous before.

 _Calm down, you idiot._ Harry chided himself _, It's just Snape... but he's more than that now isn't he?_

He should just feel grateful that he got away from the Dursleys, but now the prominent fear of also being rejected by his own father had a greater presence in his mind. Harry tucked his hands into his pockets to hide the nervousness that was coursing through him.

Even in the summertime Snape was wearing his usual black outfit, though without the billowing robes. Not that it made him any less intimidating.

"Good afternoon, Severus," Dumbledore greeted Snape as they got closer.

"Headmaster," Snape said, giving a curt nod. Then he set his intense gaze on Harry with black eyes still as fathomless as ever. Harry dropped his eyes to his worn trainers.

"I will be setting up the wards around your property. You should get Harry settled in," Dumbledore said to Snape as he gave Harry a gentle pat on the shoulder.

"Of course. Come with me Potter, and no dillydallying, I do not have all day." Snape turned and started walking briskly inside.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied softly as he made to follow. Dumbledore gave his shoulder a brief squeeze as he walked past him.

Once Harry got inside the manor, he was amazed at how beautifully decorated the interior was. Harry would have never imagined Snape's home to be this luxurious. He and Ron have always joked that Snape slept inside a coffin in the middle of a dark and cold dungeon. Looking around at the brightly lit rooms with natural sunlight shining in through the large glass windows, Harry thought about how wrong their assumptions were. Ron would certainly never believe him if Harry told him.

"Quit dawdling, Potter and come along," Snape said impatiently from the other side of the room.

Harry was led through hallway after hallway and up two flights of stairs. He'd never imagined living in such a place. All the rooms that they passed were elegantly decorated and quite large. Harry had to jog to catch up to Snape at one point when he noticed that he was lagging behind. Snape's strides were long and brisk and the man never turned his head to check if Harry was following.

"This is your room, Potter," Snape said as they reached a room near the end of an extensive hallway.

Once Harry got a glimpse of his room, his eyes widened at prospect of getting his own room for the first time in his life.

The room was noticeably smaller than the other rooms they passed, but it was definitely big enough for Harry. The walls were a grey and everything was simple and plain. Harry didn't care either way, focusing on the fact that he was getting his own room that wasn't grudgingly given to him. The window in the room had an alcove with long curtains that hung around it providing a scenic view of the vast backyard. The large four poster bed also had a plain color scheme too it, with curtains that draped to the side and a light gray bedspread. It rivaled his four poster bed at Hogwarts. He even had a bathroom all to himself that was connected to the room. Harry couldn't hardly believe that he was actually getting this room. Well it was certainly better than what he got at the Dursleys that was for sure. He couldn't help going up to everything and feeling it, to make sure it wasn't all just a dream.

* * *

Severus remained standing at the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest as he watched the boy take in the room.

Potter appeared to be inspecting all the furniture in the room. _What is the boy doing? Checking to see if everything is up to his standards? Well he isn't getting better from me that's certain_. He was determined to make sure that the boy knew he was not going to be pampered and spoiled like at his relatives.

Severus cleared his throat to get the boys attention, "Is the room acceptable for the _Golden Boy_?" he sneered.

Potter flinched as if he'd forgotten that Severus was still there with him and immediately stopped what he was doing to turn around. "It's fine, sir. It's a really nice room," the boy said genuinely.

Severus was surprised that the boy was being so polite, but his face remained emotionless. He had thought that Potter would complain about how plain and boring it was and demand to let him decorate it. Hearing this sincere statement from the boy about this room, which was far less spectacular than the many other rooms, confused him.

Potter seemed to be looking around the room in... was it awe?

Severus wasn't sure what to make of Potter's reaction. _Surely he had a much better room at his relatives,_ thought Severus.

Pushing those thoughts from his mind, Severus decided to make sure the boy understood what to expect from him. "Let me get one thing clear Potter, I am not your relatives. I will not coddle or pamper you like they have. I will also not tolerate disrespect, therefore you will call me Sir or Professor. Am I clear?" Severus said in a stern voice as he gave a pointed glare at Potter.

Severus noticed an unknown emotion flicker in the boy's usually expressive green eyes, but it was gone a second later. He narrowed his eyes when the boy gave a slight nod to show that he understood.

"I require a verbal answer, Potter," Severus demanded. _Being a disrespectful brat already, are we?_

"Yes, sir," Potter replied softly, his head down, avoiding eye contact.

"Look at me when I am speaking to you," Severus said with irritation lacing his tone. The boy raised his eyes slowly to meet his. Curiously, Severus couldn't distinguish a certain emotion from them. His face seemed carefully blank. "Also I expect this room to be well kept. No doubt your relatives have been tending to your every need, but here you cannot call a house elf to do it for you," he continued sternly.

Potter replied with another quiet "Yes, sir" which was the complete opposite from what Severus had been expecting. He wondered why there haven't been any defiant outbursts or protests yet.

 _The boy is being remarkably polite today. He better not be up to something already._

"Very well. Unpack your things and be downstairs for dinner at six." Severus turned to leave, but was stopped when Potter spoke again.

"Um, sir? Could you... unshrink my trunk please?" the boy asked hesitantly as he took out his tiny trunk from his pocket.

"Set it on the floor."

The boy did so and Severus took his wand from his sleeve and silently spelled the trunk back to its normal size.

"Thank you, sir."

Severus put his wand back into his sleeve and swept out of the room after giving the boy a stiff nod. He didn't think anymore on Potter's unusual behavior as his mind was now occupied by the matter of when Kieran would be back and how the first meeting between the two of them would go.

He decided to go see if Albus had finished putting up the wards.

* * *

Harry stood in the middle of the room for a few moments after Snape left. The contentment from receiving his new room had worn off by the coldness of Snape's demeanor. He shouldn't have expected anything different— it was still Snape after all. But Harry couldn't help feeling a little saddened by that.

 _He's still calling me Potter... Even though I'm not really a Potter..._

Of course he was still going to think of Harry as a spoiled brat. When had he ever thought differently?

 _Maybe I could prove him wrong?_

Hopefully there was a chance with Snape unlike at the Dursleys where there was absolutely _nothing_ he could have done to change their minds.

But then again, this was _Snape_ he was talking about.

Giving a long sigh, Harry opened his trunk and started unpacking. This didn't take him long as he only had a small amount of possessions to begin with anyway. He placed the photo album on the nightstand beside his bed along with the letter from his mother. His eyes lingered on those photos he received with the letter.

Taking a seat on the bed, Harry fondly looked at the pictures and went through the photo album. Getting lost in the pictures, he almost failed to notice that it was getting close to when he would have to go down for dinner. Harry put the photo album away before going into the bathroom to freshen up.

As soon as he saw his reflection in the mirror, Harry let out a small gasp. His appearance had changed slightly, but it was definitely noticeable from when he last saw himself. His usual black messy hair had lost some of its unkempt look and had become softer and could actually lay flat for once. It no longer stuck up in odd angles. His face had gotten a bit paler than usual. The infamous scar was still present on his forehead so he flattened his hair down to cover it up.

Harry found himself liking the subtle changes to his appearance as he had been trying to tame his wild hair for years now. He did notice a tiny resemblance to Snape which must mean that his mother's charm is wearing off. Harry thought about what his true appearance was really like. Would he look more like his mother or Snape?

He wondered if his friends would still recognize him once the charm completely wore off. What would they think? Would they still want to be friends? Harry wanted to write to them but Hedwig's not with him and he was definitely not going to ask Snape. Judging by the man's mood today, it was best not to get in his way. It seemed like just the sight of Harry could irritate him.

The bruises from Uncle Vernon's punishment a few days ago started appearing as Harry undid the glamour charm that hid them. He gently touched the discolored bruises on his face to check if there was anymore pain. The bruises seemed to be healing. He hated looking at himself all battered and bruised, it just served to remind him of unpleasant memories and how much of a freak he was. Once he finished, Harry wandlessly recast the glamour charm and made sure it covered all the bruises on his body before exiting the bathroom.

Not wanting to be late to dinner, Harry made his way out of the room and downstairs. It took some time locating the dining room with Harry getting lost here and there, either taking the wrong turn or going too far. Once he finally arrived, he peered in and saw Snape already seated at the head of the long table.

"How nice of you to show up on time for once Potter," Snape said snidely. "Come in and sit down." He pointed at the seat to his immediate left.

Harry noticed that the table was set for three people and wondered who could be joining them. He silently took the seat next to Snape and just as he sat down, he heard the roaring of the floo coming from the room next door. Harry thought it might be Dumbledore coming back to join them, but that thought flew out of his mind when he heard someone yell, "Dad, I'm back!"

 _What_ — _Dad? Who is that?_

Harry froze, his eyes widening in shock as a boy that resembled a miniature version of Snape strutted into the room.


	7. Shattered Expectations

The boy walked in with an air of pompousness that reminded him of the way Draco Malfoy strolled around Hogwarts like he owned the place. Every feature of the boy's seemed to be Snape's except his hair was a dark brown instead of black and his face wasn't as thin. When the boy set his obsidian eyes so like Snape's on him, the intensity of his glare seemed to almost burn through Harry. At first he didn't know how to react and almost openly gaped at the boy, but the hatred radiating off of him towards Harry stopped him from doing so.

Once the boy sat down in the seat directly in front of Harry and to Snape's right, Snape said, "Potter, this is my son Kieran."

Harry said a quiet "Hello" and received a sharp "Hi" in return.

 _Since when did Snape have a son? So he's like my brother? Why does he seem to already despise me? Why does everyone hate me? What_ —

"We need to discuss the rules before we eat Potter," Snape said to Harry, breaking him out of his jumbled thoughts. Once he saw that he had Harry's full attention he continued, "Breakfast is at 8:00 with Lunch being at 12:00 and Dinner at 6:00. Punctuality is a must, if you are late, you will not eat. You will have to remember Potter as I will not be waiting on you hand and foot."

Harry nodded his understanding. It seemed doable to him. At least he could get three meals a day here.

"Starting tomorrow, I will give you a list of chores that needs to be done that day. I will not tolerate laziness Potter. As such I expect your work to be satisfactory or you will have to redo it the next day," Snape continued, as Harry noticed Kieran smirking from the corner of his eyes.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied easily. He had no problems with having to do chores as he was quite used to it from the Durlseys anyway. _Hopefully the list won't be as long as the Dursley's._

"You are also forbidden to enter my bedroom, Kieran's bedroom, and my potion's lab without permission first. Furthermore, knowing your troublesome tendencies, I will be confiscating your wand, broom, and that infernal invisibility cloak of yours," Snape told Harry with a commanding tone. Harry was about to protest with a "You have no right to take them," but thought better of it. Those items were very important to him and he never wanted to give them to Snape. The cloak was his da— James', the only thing that Harry had from him and his Firebolt was gifted to him from Sirius. He could make due without his wand, since he had been without it for a while now at the Dursley's, but the cloak and Firebolt...

"Disobey the rules and face the consequences. I can assure you, they will not be... _pleasant_ ," Snape said menacingly.

 _What does that mean?_ A chill went up Harry's spine at that and he had to look away to hide the slight involuntary shudder. Many thoughts raced through Harry's mind before Snape's voice broke through again, "You two will behave, I do not want any fighting." He gave a stern gaze to both boys but seemed to linger longer on Harry.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied, averting his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever," Kieran said nonchalantly as he leaned back in his chair.

"Kieran," Snape said warningly.

"Yes, Dad."

Harry was surprised that Snape didn't tell him off for being disrespectful. Instead, Snape just gave him a pointed glare that had no affect on Kieran whatsoever.

No more was said as dinner was then delivered by the house elves. The tension in the room was palpable. The food was delicious though, but Harry could barely finish half his plate. After weeks of being starved at the Dursley's his stomach wasn't capable of holding a lot of food. Even worse, the food just felt like rocks in his stomach that were weighing him down. Harry just resorted to moving food around his plate when he couldn't eat any more.

* * *

 _Interesting. The boy had taken to the announcement of having to do chores rather well._ Severus had been waiting for the impending protests from Potter, but they never came.

He had also noticed that the boy came close to protesting the confiscation of his important possessions. He fully expected the Potter he knew so well from school to reemerge again, but then it had disappeared without a trace of it ever being there in the first place.

 _Perhaps he was finally going to obey the rules._

Though he shouldn't hold his breath.

Throughout dinner, he discreetly watched Potter taking small bites here and there. At one point, Severus saw the boy pushing the food around on his plate, not much of it actually getting into his mouth.

 _Is the food not to his liking?_

Several harsh reprimands came to mind that was about to be spewed on the boy, but he refrained from doing so. It didn't escape his notice that Potter was behaving rather subdued. Not at all like the impudent brat he knew at Hogwarts. Kieran was occasionally giving Potter dirty looks, but the boy didn't notice, keeping his head down the whole time.

After dessert was finished, Severus said, "Potter, bring your things to my study."

Then he stood up and swept out of the room to go finish some work before turning in for the night.

* * *

Harry was about to get up and leave to go back to his room, but was stopped by Kieran.

"Listen up, Potter," Kieran said in a harsh whisper. "You better stay out of my way and my Dad's way too."

 _What's his problem?_

"For your information, he's my Dad too," Harry retorted back.

"Yeah sure, but he obviously doesn't want you here," Kieran snorted.

Harry crossed his arms, "What's your problem?"

"Nobody _wants_ you here Potter," Kieran said with a glare as he strode out of the room before Harry could even attempt to refute his statement.

 _He's right though._ Harry just sat there for a moment, still staring at the spot Kieran just vacated. His words were ringing in his ears like a broken record.

Suddenly remembering that he had to hand over his things to Snape, Harry hurried to his room to retrieve those items. He opened his trunk and pulled out three of the most valuable things he owned. He slipped his wand into his back pocket and held the silky invisibility cloak in one hand and his beloved firebolt in the other before making his way to Snape's study.

When he arrived, he felt as if he was giving up pieces of himself. Harry quietly knocked on the door and received a sharp "Enter" before he slowly walked in to stand in front of Snape's large oak desk.

"These will be returned to you at the end of the summer," Snape said as Harry put the things down on the desk. Harry gave a long sigh before he nodded his understanding. He turned to leave when he saw Snape refocusing back on the work he was doing.

Harry made his way slowly back to his room. The walk did nothing to clear his mind of the dreadful thoughts still plaguing it. All those rules Snape gave were running through his mind.

What would happen if he broke one? It wasn't specified what those punishments would be, and Harry didn't want to find out. A detention was the only consequence that Harry had experienced with Snape, but now that Harry lived with the man, he has more control over him than he did at Hogwarts. Snape could punish him however he wanted and nobody could stop him.

Just like at the Dursleys. _What if his punishments were like Uncle Vernon's?_ Harry shuddered at the memories that surfaced from that thought.

Harry resolved to do everything the man said and was going to try his best not to screw this up. He was determined to prove that he wasn't a freak and burden because once again, he was stuck where he wasn't wanted.

* * *

It was almost four in the morning and Harry had been woken up from another nightmare that prevented him from going back to sleep. He wished Hedwig was with him right now just so he had someone to talk to. He felt incredibly lonely and wished more than ever that he had someone who he could spill his secrets too and they would just listen.

He decided to start his summer homework as a way to keep his mind busy from the miserable thoughts that might break through. He usually never got a chance to do the assignments at the Dursleys, having to rush at the last minute to complete them. He went to his trunk and took out his school books, deciding to start on his Charms homework first.

By the time breakfast time rolled around, Harry had completed his Charms and Transfiguration homework.

He got changed and headed downstairs to breakfast. It was just as tense as dinner last night with Harry keeping his head down and quietly eating as much of his breakfast as he could.

After breakfast, Snape handed him a piece of parchment with his long spidery scrawl on it. "These are the tasks you need to complete today."

"Yes, sir," Harry said as he took the parchment and looked over the list. It was much shorter than any of the ones he had been given at the Dursleys. _Those_ lists were impossible to finish in one day.

On this list, there were only three tasks: mow the lawn, weed the garden, and water the garden.

"You will find everything you need in the shed. Be careful when tending to the garden Potter. Some of those plants were difficult to acquire." Snape gave a stern gaze to Harry before he left the room.

Harry walked out into the extensive backyard with the sun shining and birds chirping from the trees. It wasn't very hot yet as it will be later in the afternoon and he wanted to finish mowing before that time. Looking at the huge property he knew it was going to take him a while to get that task completed.

He went over to the shed and was surprised to find what looked like a muggle lawn mower inside. He hauled it out and began to mow the lawn. From a very young age, he had been doing yard work for the Dursleys with big machines that were difficult for any young child to handle. It wasn't anything Harry wasn't used to.

Halfway through finishing the backyard, Harry noticed Kieran and Snape coming out with brooms in their hands. They went to the side of the backyard that he had already finished and started flying. He was surprised that Kieran convinced Snape to go flying with him as the only time he had ever seen Snape on a broom was when he referred a quidditch match in his first year.

The sight reminded Harry of when he dreamt of being able to fly with his da— James because everyone told him how good of a flyer he was. He had always fantasized about what spending time with a parent would be like. Snape and Kieran looked to be having a good time and Snape looked almost content— well, as content as Snape could be that is.

Harry all of a sudden felt a pang of something and he had to look away. He almost felt like he was intruding on a happy father and son bonding moment.

Refocusing his attention to mowing the lawn, Harry worked faster to keep his mind away from the depressing thoughts that threatened to overwhelm him.

* * *

Severus was on his broom flying with Kieran after his son convinced him to go flying with him. He was reluctant at first because he had work to be done, but Kieran had been very persistent.

When he had came out he was surprised to see that Potter had already finished mowing half of the backyard. It had barely been an hour. If Severus didn't know any better he would have thought that the boy was used to doing this type of yard work.

 _There is something not quite right with the boy._ He hasn't said a word out of place yet. Severus had expected the boy to groan and complain when he handed him the chores list, but the boy was quiet and polite, not a hint of the arrogantly defiant rule breaker he had known for the last five years. Maybe all those encounters with the Dark Lord had finally got to him. Whatever it was, Severus was now determined to find out.

And what was with those rags the boy called clothes? They seemed fit for a large whale not for a scrawny teen.

"Dad! Let's race to that tree!" Kieran's voice broke him out of his thoughts. He directed his attention back to Kieran and gestured with his hand to proceed.

"Ready... Set... GO!"

During the rest of their flying session, Severus found himself often distracted by Potter's peculiar behavior as he occasionally observed the boy working. Kieran kept pulling him out of his thoughts by yelling "Dad" every few minutes.

It was almost lunch time and Potter was still out in the backyard. After their quick flying session, Severus had went back into his study to try to get some work done, but he had found himself watching the boy instead.

Potter had finished mowing the lawn and was now in the middle of pulling the weeds from the garden. From the second floor window, Severus could see the boy efficiently pulling out the weeds, as if he'd been doing it for his whole life. A frown appeared on his usually stoic features when he realized that in the three hours he had been watching, Potter hadn't once slacked off or taken a break.

He had anticipated the boy to not take the chores seriously and constantly whine about the hard work he had to do, but at this rate, he will be finished with all his chores before dinner. Severus wasn't sure what to make of this new Potter and he did not like being confused.

At lunch, only Severus and Kieran were present. Potter was still outside and as of yet, still hadn't stopped to take a break. It was a little disconcerting for Severus to see. Once lunch was over, Severus decided to just this once, let the boy off the hook with the rule of being on time to meals in order to eat.

He went outside to fetch said boy.

"Potter," Severus said from behind the boy. Potter flinched and turned around sharply with... was that _fear_ in his eyes? It was gone a second later, replaced with a blank expression as Potter stood up, averting his eyes and shoving his hands in his pocket. Severus had noticed the slight shaking of his hands but didn't comment. He filed it away for later.

"You missed lunch," Severus said.

"Oh, I'm sorry sir. I must've lost track of time," Potter replied looking at a point to the right of Severus' shoulder.

"Come inside, Potter. I will let you off this time for being late," Severus said, turning back toward the manor and expecting Potter to follow.

* * *

Harry brushed his hands on his trousers, getting rid of the dirt before following Snape inside. He cursed himself for letting Snape see that involuntary flinch he gave. How did the man manage to always sneak up on him like that? Was his shoes capable of absorbing all the sound or something?

He trailed after Snape, still surprised that the man was letting him have lunch even though he specifically stated yesterday Harry wouldn't get any if he was late.

 _Since when does Snape ever let him off on anything?_

When they arrived, there was a plate of food and a cup of pumpkin juice on the table. With a sharp wave of his wand, Snape removed the stasis charm surrounding them.

"Go wash your hands and then eat, Potter."

"Alright. Thanks sir," Harry said as he made his way to the bathroom.

Harry was quite hungry but was still unable to eat very much. Once he ate all that he could, he took his plate into the kitchen and was going to wash it when a _pop_ sounded from his right, startling him.

"Young master need not do that. That is Mimkey's job," squeaked a tiny house elf. It reminded Harry distinctly of Dobby, but dressed in a nice black uniform with a family crest on it.

"No it's fine, I can do it," Harry replied.

"No no no. Mimkey can do it." The little elf shook her head as she took the plate from Harry's hands.

"Er, alright... Thanks, Mimkey," Harry said as he left the kitchen and went back out to the backyard to finish his chores.

He managed to finish the rest of his chores just as dinner time came around. After dinner, he took a shower, relishing in the fact that he could use warm water unlike at the Dursley's where he was limited to only cold water and less than five minutes.

His body was tired but his mind wouldn't let him rest easy. Seeing Kieran and Snape flying together today had unleashed feelings of longing that Harry had buried away long ago after he realized that he could never have that. He had seen Uncle Vernon spending time with Dudley like that and had wished that he could experience what spending time with one of his parents would be like.

Harry shook his head, he shouldn't be hoping for anything more than what he already had. At least here he wasn't starved or beaten because he didn't do all his chores right. Snape even let him have lunch when he missed it. But Harry knew Snape still hated him, yet the man hadn't belittled Harry like he usually did at school nor did he say that anything was wrong with the chores Harry had done so far.

 _Maybe I actually did something right for once... Maybe..._

No, he shouldn't think too much of it. While Snape didn't say that he did anything wrong, he certainly didn't say that he did anything right either.

Harry gave a dejected sigh and tiredly ran a hand over his face. He decided to work more on his school assignments before he went to bed.

* * *

It was close to midnight and Severus was sitting in an armchair in the living room. He was trying to read a potions journal but his mind kept drifting to Potter's strange behavior.

The boy had done a good job on his chores. Even completing them in a faster manner than he thought possible without the use of magic. But how did he do it that fast, and so efficient?

He had to question again, wasn't the boy spoiled and waited on by his relatives?

After today, Severus wasn't so certain anymore. Potter had worked diligently and didn't slack off. It was as if the boy was used to all of this. He didn't even complain about being tired or demand for a break either. Severus certainly thought that Potter would put up a fight over him taking away three of his most valuable possessions, but the boy just silently acquiesced to his command. Potter had been more polite and respectful today than Severus had seen from him in all the years the boy had been at Hogwarts.

More unsettling was the flinch that Severus had witnessed when he had called him to come in for lunch. Where did that come from? He knew that he could be intimidating, but he had never gotten that reaction before. Especially never from Potter. And was that really fear he saw in the boy's green eyes? The more he thought about this the more perplexed he felt. Where was that insolent brat that he had known for the last five years? So far the boy was the complete opposite from what he had expected.

Just then Severus heard a _pop_ and Mimkey appeared next to him, her eyes wide, agitatedly wringing her hands.

"Master Snape sir, young master is having a terrible nightmare up on the third floor in that small room! Mimkey was cleaning when young master started screaming and tossing in bed!" the little elf said frantically, almost in tears.

"Thank you for informing me, Mimkey," Severus said as he quickly stood and hurriedly made his way up to Potter's room.

* * *

 **A/N:** _Hope you enjoyed!_ _Please let me know what you think! :)_


	8. On the Edge

_He was suddenly back in his room on Privet Drive, the only source of light was from the stream of moonlight shining in through his barred window. It was quiet until he started hearing heavy_ _footsteps coming up the stairs and stopping in front of his door._

 _The door suddenly burst open and the silhouette of a large beefy man could be seen taking up most of the space in the doorway. The man came to stand right in front of him with the most malicious look on his face that Harry had ever seen._

 _Harry tried backing up as far away from him as possible, but since the room was already small as it was, there was no where else to go._

 _"Nothing but a freak! Always a danger to my family! I'm going to give what a freak like you deserves!" Uncle Vernon shouted in his face._

 _Before he knew it, Harry was grabbed roughly by the arm and pinned tightly to the wall. He started squirming, trying unsuccessfully to get away. He even tried kicking and scratching but nothing was deterring Uncle Vernon's grip on him._

 _Then a familiar large belt appeared in Uncle Vernon's meaty hand. Harry flinched as the man suddenly swung it, causing a loud snap to echo around the room when he hit the wall beside him._

 _"Nothing but a burden. Ungrateful brat. Worthless freak. Who would want you?"_

 _At that moment, another figure cloaked in black came up behind Uncle Vernon. Harry's heart dropped to his stomach when he recognized it as none other than Snape. The man's face was twisted in loathing as he regarded Harry with cold blacks eyes. "Yes, who would want you as a son? Always causing trouble to everyone around you."_

 _"No... I'm sorry, I-I'll be good. P-please," Harry rasped out, looking at his father be_ _fore the wind was knocked out_ _of him by Uncle Vernon's large fist colliding into his ribcage._

 _"Shut up freak! He doesn't care about you!"_

 _He was abruptly knocked to the ground in front of Snape's feet as the belt began raining down on him. Harry glanced up at Snape and saw the man looking down his nose at him, just watching it happen with indifference on his features._

 _Suddenly, he was being shaken and somewhere a voice was calling his name._

 _"Potter. Potter! Harry! Wake up!"_

* * *

Severus made his way through Prince Manor, stopping briefly to check on Kieran before continuing onto Potter's room. Once he arrived, he cast a silent _lumos_ to light up the dark room. The sight that met him was alarming to say the least.

The boy's limbs were flailing about and getting tangled in the bedclothes. There was a thin sheet of sweat on his forehead that his fringe was plastered to and he seemed to be trying to dodge invisible hits that only he could see.

"No... I'm sorry, I-I'll be good. P-please," the boy had mumbled, but Severus heard every word.

Fully intent on waking the boy now, Severus went over to his bedside and placed a hand on Potter's shoulder. He immediately pulled back when he received a violent flinch from the boy. Trying again, he cautiously grabbed the boy's shoulder and gently shook him, hoping to bring him out of whatever terrifying nightmare he was suffering from.

"Potter. Potter!" This only caused the boy to grow more agitated. "Harry! Wake up!"

The boy gave a loud gasp as his eyes flew open. "Sir?" Potter hoarsely whispered in surprise as his eyes connected with Severus' for a split second before they were averted. It was enough time for Severus to get a glimpse of the anguish in those vivid emerald orbs.

The same eyes that Severus had been so familiar with. _Lily's eyes_.

At that moment, Severus was reminded of the many times he had looked into those beautiful green eyes which held so much light and innocence, only none of that was present in the same eyes he was currently looking at. These eyes were dulled and haunted, misery practically radiating in waves off of the boy.

He felt an unfamiliar pang in his chest at seeing the boy in such a distressed state.

 _What could the boy have dreamt about to elicit this sort of reaction?_ Severus wondered as he studied Harry.

The boy had shakily sat up and curled himself into a ball, hugging his knees tightly to his chest as if attempting to provide himself comfort. Tears were streaming silently down his cheeks and his breath came in short bursts. He suddenly looked so small and vulnerable.

"It's alright. It was just a nightmare. You're safe here," Severus said in a soothing voice that he didn't even know he was capable of. He hoped that he was somehow reassuring the boy as he never felt more out of his element. Providing comfort was never one of his fortes as it had been many years since he had done so. He had always left the job of comforting the homesick first years to his Prefects.

"I-I'm sorry for waking you sir," Harry said quietly as he gave a shaky sigh, looking anywhere but at Severus.

"There's no need to apologize, I was not asleep yet." Severus was still using that same calm voice as he gently sat down on the side of the bed, leaving as much room as possible between himself and the boy. He didn't want to cause more distress by hovering over him.

They sat in silence for a few moments as the boy tried to calm himself down. After a while his breathing became more even and he rubbed his eyes, wiping away the last few tears.

"What was that dream about?" Severus ventured once he saw that the boy had somewhat composed himself.

Harry snapped his head up and looked slightly shocked at first, as if that was the last thing he had expected to come out of Severus' mouth. But then his small form started shaking and he seemed to hug himself tighter.

"I don't want to talk about it." The boy vehemently shook his head. His trembling seemed to have increased slightly.

"It might help to get it off your chest."

"Please sir, I don't want to talk about it." Harry whispered, nearly pleading with him.

Severus felt a long forgotten emotion rise up inside him and he found himself giving in to the boy's request.

"As you wish." Severus let it go for now, promising himself to look more into it later.

He didn't know how to deal with emotional teenagers and needed more time to think of a better approach to finding out what was the matter with the boy because there was definitely something _wrong._ Everything that he had assumed about this boy these past five years was being contradicted.

Knowing that he wouldn't get anything out of Harry in this state, Severus called for Mimkey.

"Master Snape called for Mimkey?" The house elf popped into the space next to the bed a moment later.

"Bring me a vial of Dreamless Sleep."

"Of course, Mimkey will bring it straight away sir."

A few moments later, Mimkey returned with a vial of purple potion. "Thank you, Mimkey," Severus said as he took the vial.

"Does Master be needing anything else?" Mimkey asked.

"No, that is all."

Mimkey gave a slight bow and popped out of the room.

* * *

Harry wanted nothing more than to tell Snape. He wanted to just blurt it out because he was tired of always pretending he was fine.

Maybe he would understand. Maybe he would finally get an adult he could confide in.

 _Or_ maybe he would receive a look of disgust from the fact that he could get beaten down by a Muggle when his father learned how much of a freak he was.

It was a good thing his glamour didn't slip. He didn't want to know what Snape would think if he saw his bruises.

The scene from that dream kept replaying and the image of Snape's look of utter hatred was shown vividly in his mind.

 _Who would want you as a son?_ Rang out loudly in his head.

Snape wouldn't care. It's not like anyone bothered to care before.

 _If he doesn't care, why did he ask about the dream? Why is he still here?_ A small voice reasoned in his head.

He couldn't even begin to wonder about that.

Harry was so lost in his own thoughts that he missed the entire exchange between Mimkey and Snape. He was only drawn out of his thoughts when he heard Mimkey pop out of the room and saw his father holding a purple potion in his hand. Harry recognized it as Dreamless Sleep, remembering the only time he had used it was in his fourth year after the grueling third task.

 _He is actually giving me a potion that would help me sleep?_

"It is up to you whether you wish to take it or not, but this will help you fall back to sleep without the chance of having nightmares," Snape explained as he set the vial down on the nightstand.

"Thank you sir," Harry muttered quietly, forcing himself to make eye contact. There was an unknown emotion in Snape's eyes that he couldn't decipher.

Snape gave a stiff nod, then left the room.

Harry sat there unmoving for a few moments, not knowing what had exactly happened and trying to process it.

Why didn't he get yelled at for being a disturbance? Why didn't Snape just tell him to be quiet and then leave?

He also realized there was none of the usual coldness or venom to his father's voice.

Harry sighed wearily as he gave up trying to understand.

Wanting a reprieve from the constant nightmares, he uncorked the potion and downed the whole thing in one gulp, only grimacing slightly at the taste. He set the empty vial back on his nightstand. Immediately his eyes started to droop and he didn't even bother to pull the blanket over him before he drifted to unconsciousness, finally sleeping without the risk of unpleasant dreams.

Unbeknownst to him, Severus was standing outside his bedroom door, staying to see if the boy would take the potion. He watched him down the potion and waited a few moments until he could hear Harry's breathing even out. Silently, he slipped back into the room and put the empty vial into a pocket. Severus noticed the bedclothes were still scattered all over the place after they were kicked around during that nightmare. Having done this many times to Kieran before, Severus carefully pulled the sheets up to the boys chin and tucked them in loosely to his side.

"Goodnight Harry," Severus muttered softly as he _noxed_ the lights and quietly shut the door on his way out.

With so many thoughts occupying his mind, he retired to his own bedroom to think things over before turning in for the night.

* * *

The next morning Harry woke up feeling better rested than he had in a long time. He reached for his glasses on his nightstand and put them on, immediately noticing that his vision didn't get clearer like it usually did. He blinked a couple of times hoping to decrease the blurriness, but nothing changed. Taking the round glasses off, he instantly noticed a change in clarity as now he could see details at the other end of the room. Never before had he been able to see this well, even with the glasses on.

 _It must be Mum's glamour wearing off._

Harry quickly got out of bed and into the bathroom to see if anymore noticeable changes had occurred.

He saw that his appearance hadn't changed much since the last time he checked, beside the fact that he didn't need glasses anymore. Which was a relief because he never really liked those glasses anyway. Aunt Petunia had got them from a charity box and Harry had lost count of the many times he had to fix them with tape after Dudley decided to use him as a punching bag.

After taking a quick shower, Harry ran a comb through his hair, which didn't stick up all over the place anymore, and flattened his fringe to cover his scar. By the time he was finished, it was time for breakfast.

As he made his way down to breakfast, he was starting to feel anxious as different thoughts swirled around his mind.

Memories from last night came to the forefront and Harry was feeling embarrassed for letting Snape see him like that.

Was Snape going to say anything about what he saw last night? Was he going to use it against him?

Though the man had acted totally different from what Harry had expected. He hadn't sneered at him for crying over a silly nightmare. Snape also didn't yell at him for disturbing him and being such a bother. It was a shock to have seen Snape so calm. He didn't know the man had it in him. Uncle Vernon definitely would have just shaken him awake and told him to shut up or else.

Even more bewildering was that Snape sounded like he maybe... _cared_?

Harry shook his head, nobody had ever woken him up from one of his nightmares and wanted to help him.

He didn't know what to think anymore.

* * *

Severus looked up from the Daily Prophet when he heard the boy coming into the room. He almost showed the surprised he felt at seeing him without his glasses, but kept his face impassive. He realized that those green eyes were even more striking now without those round frames obstructing their clarity.

"Why are you not wearing your glasses?" The boy seemed surprised by Severus' question.

"Um, I don't need them anymore sir. I can see better without them now," Harry replied as he took his usual spot at the table. Severus could see him toying with a loose thread on his trousers.

Throughout breakfast, Severus couldn't help his occasional glances at Harry from behind the Daily Prophet he was reading. From what he could see of the boy's body language, Harry seemed tense. He was hunched into himself, fiddling with the fork, and picking at his food, not really eating much of it.

 _Perhaps he was still troubled by that nightmare._

Severus had been up most of the night trying to make sense of what he'd seen. The more he had thought about it, those thoughts started leading him somewhere he never wanted to go back to. He had ended up pushing those thoughts away, fervently telling himself that this was not the case.

* * *

"I will be in the potions lab brewing all day and am not to be bothered," Snape told both boys. When he had received a nod from both, he continued, this time speaking only to Harry. "As such, you do not have any chores today, but I expect you to be working on your school assignments. No doubt you were probably waiting until the last minute. You have permission to use the library if you are in need of resources."

"Yes sir." Harry noticed that Snape's voice sounded less cold. It definitely wasn't kind but it wasn't unkind either.

 _So unlike Snape._

He shook his head slightly and didn't think more of it. He was actually looking forward to a chore free day.

It went unnoticed by Harry and Severus that another set of obsidian eyes were now watching the two with suspicion.

* * *

Harry was in the library working on his potion's assignment with a few books open on the table in front of him. He had been working for a few hours now and didn't notice that he had missed lunch until Mimkey popped in with a plate of sandwiches and a cup of pumpkin juice. He couldn't believe that Snape had sent it, but Harry was grateful for it nonetheless.

After eating his lunch he continued working until Kieran walked in and stood in front of his table with his arms crossed in an acceptable impression of Snape.

"Hey Potter," Kieran greeted with an air of arrogance. Feigning interest, he picked up one of Harry's finished essays and started looking over it.

"What do you want?" Harry said snatching back his essay. He didn't trust it being in Kieran's hands.

"You know, I've been helping Dad out with his potions this summer," Kieran said in a bragging tone. "I probably know more than you do."

"Whatever." Harry focused back on the book in front of him. "Can you leave me alone now?"

"I learned a lot from him," Kieran smirked, continuing as if Harry hadn't spoken. "It's too bad that you won't get to, you know, cause he hates you."

It wasn't new to him that Snape hated him, he had known that for the past five years now. Though maybe that hatred wasn't as strong now, but he had no clue why Kieran also hated him. That seemed like a mystery to him because they have never met before and he didn't even know he had a half brother until recently.

"Why do you seem to hate me?" Harry asked growing slightly irritated by Kieran's attitude, which reminded him a lot of Malfoy and Dudley. "Tell me what I've done to you, seeing as I've never met you before." He paused for a moment, "Does it have anything to do with Voldemort?"

"How did you survive that killing curse?" Kieran ignored his questions all together. "Nothing special about you."

"It was my mother who protected me," Harry replied fiercely. "Now answer my questions."

Kieran scoffed, "Yeah like a _mudblood_ could be that powerful."

"Don't call my mother that!" Harry could feel the energy swirling around in the room and struggled to control it. It felt just like the time when he accidentally blew up Aunt Marge because she had also made a rude comment about his mother.

Apparently he wasn't trying hard enough because the books started rattling on the shelves and the table started vibrating.

"I can't believe Dad stooped that low," Kieran said, unperturbed by the magic in the air.

 _He's just trying to rile me up,_ Harry told himself, trying to take deep breathes.

"She most likely just took advantage of him. Was probably nothing more than a filthy wh—" Kieran didn't get a chance to finish that sentence as something snapped in Harry.

"Shut up!" Harry shouted, lunging at Kieran and knocking him down to the ground with a good punch to his cheek. He would have pulled out his wand, but Snape had confiscated it. Kieran didn't seem to have his wand with him either.

All the magic Harry was trying to restrain suddenly burst forth, causing the books to fly off their shelves and the parchment to scatter throughout the room.

 _How dare he almost called Mum that. Who did he think he was?_ Nobody insults his Mum like that, after all she gave up to protect him. Harry knew that his parents were once happy together.

After his initial shock wore off, Kieran fought back and had the audacity to seem angry. They began rolling around, both of them threw punches and tried to get on top of each other. Even though they were two years apart, they looked to be the same age. Kieran, being the stronger of the two at the moment, quickly gained the upper hand as he shoved Harry off of him and threw in a couple of punches to his chest.

" _Enough_." A deep baritone voice broke through the chaos, causing both boys to immediately freeze. They were panting and glaring at each other.

Looking around the room, Harry noticed the state of the library and instantly felt guilty for causing the mess. He chanced a glance at Snape and immediately looked away when he saw the deep look of displeasure on the man's face.

Fear and trepidation coursed through him.

 _I'm really going to get it now._

* * *

Severus was in the middle of brewing a very volatile potion that had to be timed precisely when Mimkey informed him about what was occurring in the library. Knowing that he had to start the potion over again later, he angrily vanished the ruined mixture and stalked to the library. He was definitely not in the mood to have to deal with a petty teenage fight, already having enough of those during the school year. He knew this was going to happen sooner or later but this was probably the worst time.

He arrived to see the boys rolling on the floor in what looked like a muggle brawl. The library was in a total state of disarray with books strewn all over, pieces of parchment littered everywhere, and some of the furniture overturned.

Once he had their attention, he crossed his arms over his chest menacingly. "What is the meaning of this?" Severus asked in a low dangerous tone, not bothering to conceal his anger. His eyes roamed back and forth between Potter and Kieran. At least both boys seemed to be looking apprehensive.

 _Good, they should be after what they did to the library._

Severus noticed that Kieran was sporting a split lip and a bruise was forming on his left cheek, but he was standing his ground in a defiant manner. Potter on the other hand, seemed to have gotten more injuries compared to Kieran, with a cut on his forehead, a black eye, and split lip. Though he was holding himself in the complete opposite way that Kieran was with his head down and his eyes solely trained on his shoes. The meekness from the boy was starting to somewhat concern him.

"Potter started it! He lunged at me and punched me in the face!" Kieran claimed, dramatically pointing to his bruised cheek.

Severus expected Potter to retaliate and refute that statement but the boy just remained silent, still keeping his gaze on his trainers. Nothing at all like the brat he had known at school. The Potter he knew would have definitely argued back.

He sighed heavily before deciding to bring them individually into his study to ask them what happened, knowing that he would never be able to get the full story with them together.

"I do not want to hear another word from either of you. Follow me," he ordered sternly, glaring at both before making his way out of the library.

* * *

Harry followed Snape and Kieran out of the library, his anxiety and dread growing with every step he took.

Why did he let his anger get the best of him? Where was Snape taking them? What was going to be his punishment?

Once they reached Snape's study, Snape turned around to face them, giving them both a hard look.

"Both of you are going to come inside and tell me what happened," His eyes darted back and forth between them, " _Truthfully."_

Harry averted his eyes, fiddling with a loose thread on his trousers.

"Kieran, you first." Snape stepped aside and allowed Kieran entry. He shut the door quite forcefully, and then it was silent. Harry suspected Snape had put up a silencing charm.

Harry slid down the wall to sit leaning against it and pulled his knees up to his chest as he waited. The adrenaline from the fight had depleted and now he was starting to feel the full effects of his injuries. The few well placed hits to his chest hurt his ribs that were still in the process of healing.

He sighed heavily and wondered what Kieran was telling Snape right now. _Probably lying about the whole thing, but Snape's most likely going to believe him._ This whole situation brought back memories of when he fought with Dudley and Uncle Vernon always believed Dudley's side of the story, never once giving any thought to Harry's no matter what had happened.

His mind then wandered to what punishments Snape would be giving. He shuddered at the thought of Snape doling out punishments like Uncle Vernon's.

 _It would probably be worse, if there was magic involved._

He was broken out of his thoughts when he saw the door open a few minutes later. Kieran walked out looking a little deflated, but he still smirked when he passed Harry. It looked like Snape had healed his lip and the bruise on his cheek.

"Potter," Snape called from the doorway to the study.

Harry hastily stood and warily walked in. He suppressed a flinch when Snape shut the door behind them, and erected the same silencing spell.

"Sit down." Snape gestured at the wooden chair situated in front of his desk.

Harry sat with his back straight and his hands resting nervously on his lap.

"Now, care to tell me what happened to bring about this fight." Snape said, taking his seat and crossing his arms over the desk.

Harry couldn't believe that Snape was actually giving him a chance to explain.

 _Should I just tell him? Was there even a chance of him believing me?_

Apparently, Snape noticed he was debating with himself, "I want the truth, Potter."

Harry sighed, _here goes nothing_ , "Well I was just doing my assignments in the library and Kieran came in trying to rile me up. He called Mum a..."

"Go on," Snape said when Harry had paused for too long.

"Mudblood," Harry whispered.

Snape's eyes flashed.

"And when he almost called her a... _whore_. I snapped and punched him." Harry finished with his eyes cast downward, staring at his hands on his lap. He was starting to feel a little lightheaded, the ache in his chest had increased. He waited for Snape to tell him off and declare him a liar, but it never came.

"I see. Anything else?" said Snape. After seeing the man being so angry before, he was surprised that Snape was being so calm at the moment. Though now his eyes were smoldering with unmistakeable fury, and Harry unconsciously backed up in his chair slightly.

Maybe he should apologize for the mess he made in the library before he lost the nerve.

"Er, it was my accidental magic that caused such a mess in your library. I'm really sorry, sir. I'll clean it up, if you want me to," Harry said softly. He again dropped his eyes to his fidgeting hands when he saw Snape narrow his eyes and give him a strange look.

"We will talk about punishments later." Snape stood up and took out a small jar from one of his robe pockets. "Come here."

Harry slowly got up, his head and chest were now protesting to any fast movement. He ignored it and focused on what Snape was doing. The man had taken out his wand and was silently healing the cut on his forehead and his split lip. Harry couldn't help the small flinch he gave when Snape pointed his wand at him. He could feel a tingling sensation as the skin knitted itself back together. Snape then took some of the salve from the jar and gently started applying it on the bruises.

Harry couldn't believe how gentle the man was being. _Was this how it feels when a parent takes care of you?_

He had seen Aunt Petunia healing Dudley's scraped knees when he was little and how gentle she was when she cleaned the wounds and bandaged them. But the same couldn't have been said for Harry because every time he was injured, Aunt Petunia would throw a towel at him and tell him to do it himself, coldly warning him to make sure he didn't get the floor dirty.

His musings were cut short as his vision started tunneling and he had a hard time breathing all of a sudden.

He could feel his glamour slipping as he desperately tried to keep it up.

Someone was calling his name as he was losing the battle with consciousness. Harry was vaguely aware of a hand on his shoulder, trying to steady him when he started swaying slightly.

The last thing he saw was a pair of concerned black eyes watching him.

"Harry!"


	9. The Unmasked Truth

Severus was healing the bruises on Harry's face, all the while thinking of appropriate punishments for that destructive fight Harry and Kieran had in the library. He was definitely going to have a serious talk with Kieran about lying. Being the head of house for Slytherin, he knew how to ascertain if his students were lying to him.

Kieran had told him a skewed version of the events, leaving out important details that Severus couldn't get out of him yet. He had decided to ask Harry for his side before trying to reach a conclusion of what happened, though that didn't mean that Severus didn't already threaten Kieran with a punishment if he was indeed lying.

The behavior that was displayed by Harry when he was questioning him was telling. Severus noticed the fidgeting of his hands and the hesitation in his voice, but he only saw truth in his eyes. He had to control his fury when Harry told him what Kieran had called Lily. Severus planned to do something about that mouth of his because it wasn't acceptable to use that kind of language, considering this wasn't the first time Kieran had used one of those words. He apparently didn't heed to Severus' warning the first time.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he almost didn't notice Harry slightly wavering on his feet. Severus quickly placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him when the boy seemed to be on the verge of collapsing. His face seemed to be paler than before and his breathing was becoming short and quick as if he just couldn't get enough air into his lungs. Suddenly Harry's panicked eyes connected with his for a split second before they closed and he fell limp.

"Harry!"

Severus caught him just in time to prevent him from hitting his head on the edge of the desk.

"Harry?" He tried shaking the boy slightly, but didn't receive a response. He easily lifted Harry into his arms, frowning when he noticed how light the boy was and settled him gently onto the small settee.

Harry seemed to be changing right before his eyes. The skin that he just finished healing on his face became bruised again and Severus noticed scars beginning to form on his arms.

Where on earth did the boy get these? They certainly weren't there a couple of minutes ago. Did he wear a glamour?

Kneeling beside the boy, Severus placed a hand on Harry's forehead and found it slightly warm. He also checked his pulse and found it to be thready and a little weak. Harry must have gotten more injured than he realized.

He immediately vanished the boy's overlarge shirt and nearly gasped in horror at the sight before him.

 _Dear Merlin..._

Severus could literally make out every rib and what was more startling was the fact that there was almost no skin that was left unblemished as severe bruising colored the boy's chest.

Gently rolling the boy onto his side, his concern increased when he saw that Harry's back wasn't any better than his front. There were old marks that have long turned into scars and new wounds that he realized had been recently acquired. Multiple lacerations littered the boy's back. Severus winced when he saw the redness around the wounds, noticing they were inflamed and looked to be infected as he examined the abused flesh. _From a belt buckle_ , Severus thought darkly. He was familiar with the damage belt buckles caused as he had some scars of his own, but his weren't nearly as severe.

He lightly traced over an old scar on Harry's back, just to be sure that it was real. To be sure that it wasn't just a figment of his imagination.

Realizing that Harry needed more medical help than he alone could provide, he hastily made his way to the fireplace and floo called the Hogwart's infirmary.

"What is it, Severus?" Madam Pomfrey asked when she saw his head in the green flames. She was sitting at her desk, organizing some medical records.

"Poppy, I require your assistance. It is urgent, please bring your supplies," Severus said and without elaborating further on the situation, he pulled his head back.

Not a moment too soon, the mediwitch arrived carrying her medical supplies bag. "What is so urgent, Severus?" She gasped when she saw Harry on the settee. "What happened?"

"I'm not certain, but I was healing his bruises from an earlier conflict when he fainted. It appears that he was wearing a glamour," Severus replied, trying to keep his usual stony expression.

Poppy quickly cast a diagnosis spell over Harry's body. A piece of parchment started appearing beside Harry, listing all the injuries that he had suffered so far. Severus paled as the list kept growing longer and longer.

It seemed endless.

Once it finally finished, both of them stared at the parchment in disbelief.

Severe malnutrition, dehydration, broken bones, concussions, burns, and cuts were all listed.

 _How much had this boy been through?_

Instantly, snippets of memories from these past few days returned. All those thoughts he had adamantly pushed away were coming back to him full force now as several memories flashed through his mind.

The flinch Harry displayed when Severus had went to tell the boy to come in for lunch, accompanied by the barely concealed fear in his eyes.

How he was nothing but polite and obedient, doing everything he was told without a single protest. Effortlessly doing the chores, with no complaints whatsoever about being tired or wanting a break. _He's used to it_.

How submissive he was after the fight in the library. _Did he think he was going to get severely punished?_

Then there was that nightmare he woke Harry from yesterday and the way he seemed to be thrashing and dodging hits in his sleep. There was also Harry's apology for waking him up and the obvious surprise when Severus asked about the nightmare. The anguish in those green eyes...

 _It all made sense now_...

Why didn't anyone all these years at Hogwarts notice this? Surely his friends, Albus, or Minerva should have known about this? Or Lupin and Black should have definitely noticed something. They were close to the boy after all.

But if they did, then why didn't anybody _do_ anything about it?

 _Why couldn't I have seen it?_

Severus exhaled noisily. _Because he was too blinded by his hatred_.

"I have never seen a child who have had so many injuries," Poppy whispered as she put a hand over her mouth.

Severus didn't respond, he just kept staring at the parchment. He was struggling to contain his fury as his fingers made creases in the parchment due to his tight grip. He was furious at the boy's relatives, angry at Albus for leaving Harry with them, angry at Minerva for not realizing what a student in her house was going through. But mostly he was angry at himself for not recognizing the signs for what they were.

"He has a fever due to the infection that's starting to set in. There's also broken ribs that needs to fixed before they puncture his lungs, at the moment they are hindering his ability to breath properly. The trauma from that conflict must have prolonged it's healing," Poppy said, breaking Severus out of his thoughts. She pulled out the potions and salves she needed from her bag. "He also has a few bones that were wrongly healed."

Severus pushed the anger away and focused on the task at hand now, which was to heal Harry's current injuries. How the boy managed to not succumb to these injuries sooner was beyond him.

Poppy first spelled a fever reducer and then a dose of dreamless sleep into Harry to make sure he didn't wake up while they were working on him. She began to efficiently cast spells to clean and heal the infected wounds on the boy's back. Severus helped re-break the wrongly healed bones and set them to heal correctly, along with his broken ribs. He then spelled the skele-gro into his stomach to start mending the broken bones. They finished by rubbing the bruise salve over the many bruises covering Harry's torso, arms, and face. Neither one spoke a word the whole time, both lost in their own thoughts.

After a couple of hours spent tending to the boy, they both sank tiredly onto chairs that Severus conjured up. It was silent for a while until it was broken by Poppy, "He's going to need nutrient potions to take with every meal as he is way too thin and malnourished."

Severus nodded his understanding, his gaze never leaving Harry. He had noticed the boy not eating as much as an average sixteen year old should be, but hadn't thought much of it. He had just assumed the boy was a picky eater.

Maybe he should just throw all his assumptions out the window.

Poppy rummaged in her bag and pulled out a small jar that Severus recognized contains anti-scarring cream. "It won't have any effect on the older scars, but this will take care of the newer ones just fine." She handed the jar to Severus, who put it in his robe pocket to apply on the boy later.

"After a good night's rest, he should be fine by tomorrow," Poppy reassured as she flicked her wand, making all the supplies pack themselves back into her bag. "Albus informed me of your relationship to Harry. Personally I think it's wonderful that Harry has someone for support now." She smiled sadly, "Merlin knows he needs it after these last five years."

Severus was a little shocked, but his features remained expressionless. He just gave a tiny nod of acknowledgment.

"It's amazing that he's held up this long," Poppy said quietly.

"Yes, it is." Severus' voice was no more than a whisper.

"Minerva told me they were the worst sort of Muggles. I still can't believe Albus left Harry there in the first place and kept sending him back every summer." Poppy gave an exasperated sigh.

His anger from before resurfaced again.

What good were the blood wards if he wasn't also safe inside them?

Severus had known Petunia despised anything to do with magic ever since that day he met her and if she was anything like she was before then it was no wonder that hatred got passed onto Harry. She was just jealous of Lily's magic, but he couldn't believe that her hatred would go this far onto her own nephew.

"Someone should have checked on him," Severus growled.

"Harry hid it pretty well."

"Yes, but I should have recognized the signs." He ran an agitated hand over his face.

"You can be there for him now, Severus." Poppy patted his shoulder. "I have always noticed how thin he was at the beginning of the school years, but he was too stubborn to go to the hospital wing. Now I know where he gets it from."

Severus gave a stiff nod. He wondered what he would have done if he did notice. Would he have tried to help the boy or would his hatred overrule all rational thought? He shook his head, there was no point in _what ifs_. All he could do was to be there for Harry now.

Poppy gave a long sigh as she stood up. "Well I should return to Hogwarts. Floo call me if you need anything else."

"Thank you, Poppy." She inclined her head and glanced one more time at Harry before vanishing in the green flames.

Severus carefully gathered his son to his chest and carried him up to his room. When they finally arrived, he gently set Harry down on the bed, making sure not to jostle his healing injuries. He went to the dresser to get the boy a new shirt, but was dismayed to see all the clothes were of the same quality. All of them were overlarge and worn down with holes. He was definitely going to have to take the boy shopping one day.

Giving up on finding the boy a decent enough shirt from his set of rags, Severus summoned a shirt of his own and shrunk it down. He spelled it onto Harry and transfigured his jeans into pajamas. Then he proceeded to cover the small teenager with a blanket and cast a mild warming charm on it.

Taking a look around the room, Severus noticed the pile of rolled up parchment with his school books organized neatly on his desk. Having a closer look, he realized that they were all of Harry's finished school assignments. He had actually been doing his homework? He had never known the boy to be studious and just figured he was mediocre at best in class. He just remembered that Harry had spent most of the day today in the library, working on his assignments like Severus told him to. Nothing like the boy he knew, well the boy he assumed he was.

It just occurred to him that he didn't really know Harry at all. In the last five years he hadn't managed to recognize the boy's true personality. Severus had been looking through specialized lens that blocked out anything that was uniquely Harry and only saw what was James Potter. Well now he was more determined to get to know the boy. Turning away from the desk, he conjured a comfortable chair beside the bed and tiredly sank into it.

For the first time since Harry arrived, Severus really studied the boy.

Didn't Lily mention a glamour in her letter?

He couldn't deny it anymore.

He noticed Harry's facial features were similar to his own, but with Lily's infused in. Thankfully his son didn't inherit his hooked nose, though the shape of the boy's face and cheekbones were most definitely from Severus. The curve of his eyebrows, his nose, the shape of lips, and his chin were all Lily. It also seemed that Harry's hair had lost the familiar, unruliness that was Potter's signature style, now looking smoother and neater, similar to Severus' own, but without the greasiness.

He was like the perfect blend.

 _His_ and Lily's.

 _Our son_.

Not even aware of doing it, Severus gently brushed a stray strand of hair away from the boy's forehead.

He gave a weary sigh and put his head in his hands. What would Lily think if she saw their son like this?

So battered and bruised, but hopefully not broken.

* * *

Severus stayed by Harry's bedside for a couple hours reading a potions journal until he had to reluctantly leave his side to go to dinner. He wanted to be there when Harry woke up and figured he won't be waking up for at least a few more hours. Kieran was already in his usual seat waiting for him. Dinner appeared on the table as soon as he sat down.

"Where's Potter?" Kieran asked after he finished a mouthful of pasta. "Is his punishment to go without dinner?"

"No, he's resting," Severus replied simply. He was definitely not going to go into more detail. It wasn't Kieran's business to know.

"Why? Was that little fight too much for him to handle?" Kieran had a suspicious look in his eyes accompanied by a smirk plastered on his face. It reminded Severus that he needed to discuss some things with him.

After pointing a disapproving glare at Kieran, Severus said sternly, "Kieran, we need to have a serious talk."

Kieran groaned, "Fine, about what?"

"About lying and that abysmal mouth of yours." Severus was quickly getting tired of Kieran's attitude.

"What are you talking about?" Kieran asked trying to appear nonchalant. Severus could tell he was deliberately trying to prolong this conversation.

"I am referring to your version of the events that brought about the fight."

"I didn't lie. Whatever Potter told you was a lie." Kieran's features were composed, though Severus noticed he was slightly fidgeting with his fork.

"What he told me, did not coincide with your version of the events," Severus said, his patience running thin.

"I _didn't_ lie, Potter was lying!" Kieran repeated a bit more forcefully,

At the sight of Severus' glare deepening, he lowered his gaze to his plate.

"Why am I finding this hard to believe?" Severus said in a sarcastic tone laced with irritation.

"I told you the truth!" Kieran said indignantly, looking up, though he was looking everywhere but at Severus.

"If you did, then look me in the eye and tell me that," Severus demanded as his dark eyes bore into Kieran's.

Kieran tried holding his intense gaze, but couldn't maintain the eye contact for long. He huffed, "Why are you taking _his_ side?"

"I'm taking the side of the truth," Severus replied. "Also, since you decided to ignore my warning about using that _word_ , I stand by what I said your punishment was going to be," he stated severely, making sure Kieran understood what he meant.

"You were serious?" Kieran asked in disbelief.

"I always am," Severus said firmly, folding his arms across his chest.

"You can't make me! That's the type of work for bloody house elves! I'll tell mother what you're having me do!" Kieran retorted, but there was unease in his voice.

"You are in my care at the moment and therefore have to abide by my rules," Severus said, glaring at Kieran. "Tomorrow, you will serve your punishments."

Kieran opened his mouth to protest further, but snapped it shut a moment later. Apparently he figured that it was no use trying to argue. Though that didn't stop Kieran from pouting at him, looking every bit like a petulant child. Severus ignored it and just continued eating his dinner.

* * *

It was a few hours into the night when Harry was starting to come around. At first he thought he was back in his room at Privet Drive, but the bed was warm and comfortable. He slowly opened his eyes and was startled to see Snape sitting in a chair next to the bed. Harry then noticed that the room was dark and the only light was from the dim lamp on his desk. How long had he been out? Had Snape been sitting there the whole time?

Harry tried to hastily sit up but was stopped when Snape leaned over him and put a warm hand on his chest to gently push him back down.

"Careful, your injuries are still in the process of healing," Snape said in a quiet voice. His father put extra pillows behind him and then helped him slowly sit up.

Harry stared at him in confusion for a moment. Then it all started to come back to him. The fight in the library, going into Snape's study, his chest hurting and the lightheadedness, getting his bruises healed, and then blacking out... _Oh no._

He remembered trying to keep his glamour up before he passed out. Alarmed, he looked down at his arms and saw the familiar red streaks covering his pale skin.

This means that... Snape would have seen the scars on his back and the wounds from that last beating as well.

Harry dropped his gaze, not daring to look at the man. He could already almost imagine the look of disgust on his face.

 _He probably thinks I'm a freak now._

"Harry, look at me."

At this, Harry couldn't help but jerk his head up to look at his father with surprise written on his features. There wasn't any anger or disgust coating the man's deep voice that Harry had expected to hear. Instead, it was the same soft tone from yesterday that his father had used when he woke him from that nightmare.

He had also called him _Harry..._

"There is nothing to be ashamed about," Snape said before he pulled out a jar of ointment from his robe pocket. "This is cream for your scars. It won't have an effect on the older scars, but it will work fine for the recent ones. If you are willing, I would like to apply it to those cuts on your back."

Harry looked at the jar and then back at his father. He just nodded his assent, still too stunned by this strange situation.

His father gently rolled him on his side, slowly lifted his shirt, and started applying the cool salve. The movements were smooth and gentle.

"How did you put up that glamour?" His father asked from behind him.

"Wandless magic, sir." Harry said it so quietly, he was surprised that Snape even heard him as that hand on his back had stilled for a moment before resuming its ministrations.

"You should not put up the glamour anymore, it takes too much of your energy that you need for your injuries to heal," his father advised, still maintaining that bewildering soft tone.

"Yes sir," Harry whispered. Why wasn't he getting a look of contempt like he did at the Dursley's? Snape had even healed his injuries? Nobody had ever taken care of him like this. It was always up to him to figure out how to deal with his own injuries.

This was so new to Harry that he didn't know how to react.

 _Surely this was too good to be true..._

Once his father finished applying the salve, he helped Harry lean back comfortably on the pillows. "Why did you not tell anyone?" Snape's expression was unreadable as usual, but his voice held an odd quality to it now and there was _something_ in those dark eyes that Harry couldn't identify.

Harry shrugged, averting his gaze and beginning to pick at a loose thread on the edge of his blanket.

They sat in silence for a few moments. So many thoughts were running through his mind, tumbling over each other as they competed for his attention.

Should he just tell him and hope for the best? The man had already seen all the bruises and scars, there was nothing left to hide...

Wasn't this what he wanted yesterday when Snape woke him up from his nightmare? To be able to confide in someone about his long kept secrets?

But then again, this was still _Snape_ he was talking about... The man who had constantly belittled and taunted him for the past five years... And suddenly, a wave of anger and resentment rushed through him as memories of all the times he'd been singled out in class and all the unfair treatment he'd been given came back to him...

No, he _wouldn't_ care—

"I can't help you if you don't talk to me, Harry," Snape said, breaking through Harry's thoughts. He heard the concern in the man's tone, and there was something in Harry that was fighting its way out, his anger having left him as quickly as it had appeared.

An irritating lump started to form in his throat. He attempted to clear his throat, hoping to get rid of that lump, but it only seemed to get bigger.

He wanted to— _desperately_ wanted to— but he just couldn't get the words to form. Too many years had been spent pushing them down and pretending that he was okay. Instead he just blurted, "You hate me! W-why would you care?" He hated the trembling in his voice, and he had to swallow hard before continuing quietly, " _Nobody's_ ever cared before."

Snape seemed to stiffen, "I don't hate you... I realize my hatred was misplaced," he said after giving a sad sigh. There was a moment's pause before he continued. "And I care, because, you are _my_ _son,_ " his father whispered softy, but firmly.

It was like the walls of a dam had broken and all these emotions flowed out. Harry couldn't even begin to describe the feelings rushing through him when he heard Snape say that. It was a simple phrase that he never thought would be said to him. His whole life Harry had always heard it directed at someone else, but _never_ was it said to him.

He didn't know why it meant so much to him, but it did.

Not knowing how to respond, he just stared into his father's obsidian eyes with his mouth hanging open slightly.

An unnoticed tear rolled down his cheek.

* * *

Severus was a bit surprised and a little alarmed at the reaction from Harry. He slowly put his hand up and gently swiped away the lone tear that was sliding down the boy's cheek with his thumb. Harry had closed his eyes for a second and leaned into the touch.

The simple action melted the ice that was encasing Severus' long unused heart. He felt a rush of protectiveness for the boy. To make sure that he was never hurt again, because he had failed at protecting him from the people that should have cared for him. He couldn't believe that he was so against letting the boy come live with him just a few days ago. Now he was glad that he did because he was never going to let those Muggles near Harry ever again.

"Now, can you tell me where the scars came from?" Severus was keeping his voice soft, hoping to encourage Harry to confide in him.

The boy paused for a moment and seemed to be gathering the courage. "Un-Uncle Vernon's belt... and sometimes the whip," Harry whispered shakily. "Mostly because I don't get my chores done fast enough." He could see the boy shudder slightly as if he was remembering the unpleasant memories.

"What were the chores?" Severus tried keeping his tone calm and soothing, but the anger was bubbling just below the surface. _That kind of harsh punishment all because he didn't finish his chores fast enough?_

"Cook meals, weed the garden, paint the shed, mostly housework and yard work," Harry said flatly as he picked at a loose thread on the blanket.

"What did they do if you didn't finish them?" Severus felt a pang of guilt as he realized that he had made Harry do the same kind of chores yesterday.

Harry kept his head down and seemed to hesitate before responding very quietly, "No food for that day and locked in my room... or if he's really angry, he'll use the belt and the whip."

"When did this all start?" Severus questioned further, all the while trying to push his anger at those Muggles behind his Occlumency shields. Now was not the time to act on those feelings. He was starting to get a very clear picture about how life was like for Harry with those blasted Muggles. Treating him like a mere house elf.

"Ever since I could remember. It's always been like this," Harry murmured softly. Then his voice dropped to no more than a whisper, "It was only because I deserved it. The last beating was because I ruined his dinner party."

Severus' heart clenched uncomfortably. It sounded as if his son truly believed it. The anger was now burning like acid within him and he struggled not to let it show in his voice, "You did _not_ deserve that Harry. _No one_ deserves any of that."

That caught the boy's attention and he looked up with surprise, those green eyes glistening with unshed tears. Though Severus could see the doubt still lingering in those emerald depths. He needed to get that ridiculous notion out of the boy's head. Whatever he had done didn't warrant that kind of punishment. _Nothing_ would warrant that kind of punishment.

Severus cautiously put a hand on Harry's thin shoulder and re-emphasized his statement more firmly this time, "You did not deserve it. There is absolutely no reason to beat a child. What they did was abuse."

He could see the boy mulling over his words and hoped that it was getting through to him, but Severus knew that it wasn't going to be that simple with how much Harry had been through. Severus noticed Harry's eyelids drooping a little and realized that the boy must be exhausted. After that difficult discussion, Harry must be emotionally drained. It was no wonder, considering he was also still healing from injuries.

"You should get some more rest." Severus removed the pillows and gently lowered Harry back down. The boy was already fast asleep as he tucked the covers around him. He hesitated a moment before he lightly carded his fingers through Harry's dark hair.

"Sleep well, Harry," he whispered.

After giving one last look at his son, Severus noxed the lamp and closed the door quietly on his way out. He decided to put up a ward that would alert him if there were any problems before he retired to his own bedroom and got ready for bed. Even though the revelations he discovered today were weighing heavily on his mind, he fell asleep quickly as his exhaustion dragged him into the oblivion of sleep.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** This chapter took longer than expected because I wasn't happy with the first draft and I had to edit some things. I've been pretty busy with college stuff so I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up, but hopefully it will be soon. I have most of it written and mapped out. Just depends on how busy my classes are this week._

 _Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed!_

 _Please let me know what you think! :)_


	10. Facing Consequences

Harry woke up the next morning feeling inexplicably lighter, like a heaviness that had been weighing him down for so long had lifted slightly. He didn't quite know how that came to be, but it was a nice change. It was as if he could breathe properly for the first time. He just hoped that it lasted, but knowing his luck, it wouldn't.

He slowly got out of bed and moved around, testing his mobility now that his wounds have healed. Though none of the previous bruises covering his body were there any longer, some of his old scars were still present. It was probably the first day that he could remember in the summer where he wasn't feeling the usual aches and pains. It was quite refreshing. Without having to maintain the glamour anymore, Harry felt as if he did have more energy than normal. Maybe it was also due to the fact that he had a decent amount of rest yesterday as well.

Picking out an acceptable shirt from the dresser, one that only had a small hole, and a slightly faded pair of jeans, Harry decided to take a shower. As he went to take off the shirt he was wearing, Harry quickly realized that it definitely wasn't his. For one thing, it fit perfectly and had no holes on it whatsoever. Dudley's old castoffs were definitely never this nice. Judging by the finely embroidered 'S' on the small front pocket of the gray nightshirt, Harry had an idea of whose shirt this was. Though the prospect of Snape lending him one of his own shirts was bewildering to Harry and actually surprised him a great deal. He carefully folded the shirt and set it down on the bathroom counter before getting into the shower. He would make sure that it was returned to his father later.

As he let the soothing warm water rain down on him, yesterday's events began replaying in his mind, especially the conversation he had with his father.

Did he really mean it? Did he really claim Harry as his son? And what about that part where he firmly told Harry that he didn't deserve to be treated like that by the Dursleys?

It was as if it was too good to be true. He had already come to terms with the fact that the Dursley's view of him would never change, but no one had told him that before.

It just seemed like a bizarre thing for Snape to say... especially to Harry.

Part of him hoped that it wasn't just a dream that his mind somehow conjured up. He wanted to believe what his father said, but he just couldn't push away the uncertainty of it all. There had always been doubt lingering in the back of his mind that prevented him from fully believing anything. It was always a matter of trusting adults. He had never learnt how to actually place his complete trust in one, choosing to handle problems on his own or with his closest friends which was made evident in his years at Hogwarts.

But yesterday he managed to confide in someone about that long kept secret and it was a person he never thought he would ever tell his secrets to. He'd never even told his best friends, though he knew that they have suspected it already, they didn't know as much as Snape, his father, did now.

Harry would have thought that Snape would agree with the Dursleys, therefore he was surprised that Snape didn't sneer or belittle him for letting Muggles beat him down.

It did seem like the man really cared yesterday...

But _did_ he really care?

Harry didn't know how to act around him anymore.

What if his father took it back? What if Harry did something wrong, would Snape reclaim that statement and act as if it never came out of his mouth? It was definitely possible. Given that he had hated Harry for so long, Snape could certainly go back to the old ways. It's not like Harry being his son meant anything to him before. What if he realized that Harry was just too much of a burden to deal with?

Harry decided at that point to be cautious around Snape, who knew what would happen if he messed up. It was better to be on guard anyway, so that he could be ready for it if it did happen.

After his quick shower, Harry got dressed and made his way down to breakfast. As soon as he stepped foot into the room, he could feel the tension hanging in the air. His father was reading the Daily Prophet, practically hiding behind it while Kieran was playing with his breakfast and glaring at it.

 _Something must have happened between them. It's never usually this tense until I walk in_.

Once his father saw him walk in, he smoothly set the paper down, "I didn't expect you to come down for breakfast." He gave Harry an assessing look over, "How are you feeling, Harry?"

"Er, I'm fine sir." Harry truly wasn't expecting that. "It's the first day in the summer that I'm not..." He trailed off, having already said too much. He was trying to stop the flush that was making its way up into his cheeks. His father apparently knew what he was going to say as the hard look that was previously in his eyes softened a little. Harry noticed Kieran regarding him with narrowed eyes and his glare that was previously aimed at his breakfast was now being pointed his way.

Harry ignored him and went to sit down at his usual seat. He had enough of trying to figure out what Kieran's problem was. Look where that got him last time.

Suddenly a bowl of porridge with fruit on top and a glass of pumpkin juice appeared in front of him as soon as he sat down. He wondered why his breakfast was different from Kieran's. Not that he minded, Harry had learned not to be a picky eater a long time ago. He gave a questioning look at his father, but the man had already refocused his attention back on the paper.

He started eating it slowly. There was a touch of sweetness along with the fresh fruit that made it pleasant. He didn't feel like he had his appetite back yet, but somehow he found that he could finish the entire bowl.

Severus was discreetly watching Harry eat his breakfast behind the Daily Prophet he was trying to read. He had told the house elves to mix a nutrient potion into it and was inwardly pleased to see him enjoying it. After realizing how little the boy had eaten the first two days, he hoped that Harry would eat all of it, considering he was way to thin not to.

Today was going to be a long day, as he was overseeing the punishments. If yesterday was any indication, he was going to have a hard time getting Kieran to cooperate. He gave a silent sigh, there so were many other ways that he would much rather spend his day.

A repeated tapping on the window pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see a brown tawny owl pecking at the glass. As soon as Severus opened the window, it immediately flew towards Harry and landed in front of him, causing the boy to flinch slightly as the owl fluttered to a stop. Harry untied the large square envelope when the owl raised it's right leg.

 _Must be his O.W.L results_ , thought Severus. He found himself wondering how Harry did.

Severus watched Harry slit the letter open slowly. He seemed to be nervous by the way his fingers were playing with the corners of the parchment. The boy's eyes skimmed over the letter so quickly that Severus had a hard time deciphering any emotion in them. But there was a hint of something that dimmed the light that was previously in those green eyes. Harry suddenly looked up and appeared to have noticed that he had an audience as both Severus and Kieran were staring at him. He quickly put the letter back in the envelope, slipped it into his pocket, and continued his breakfast, keeping his head down the rest of the time.

"Today, both of you will serve your punishment for the fight in the library," Severus announced once he saw that Harry had finished his breakfast.

At the word punishment, Severus could see Harry's stance become rigid, as if bracing himself for the worst. He turned his attention to Kieran who still had the same attitude as yesterday, his defiance still present. Severus sent him a glare that conveyed he had no patience to spend on arguing today. "Both of you follow me."

Severus led them both to the library where everything was left the way it was after that fight. He conjured up two brooms. They were going to need them to sweep up the obliterated pieces of parchment littering the floor since they couldn't use magic. "I do not condone fighting and as you two caused this mess, I expect the library to be cleaned to my satisfaction." He sent them both a stern look. "I suggest you start with those books over there." He pointed at a large mound of fallen books in a corner next to an overturned table and chair.

He was definitely not going to leave the boys alone in here together, so Severus conjured a chair and settled into it with a potions journal. Though it was just for looks as his sole attention was on what the boys were doing.

Harry immediately started picking up books and placing them back on the shelves. Kieran however seemed to be debating how far he could push Severus' patience, as he stood rooted to the spot before he started moving slowly toward the books.

A little more than five minutes into the punishment, Kieran started the inevitable complaining. "This is going to take forever!" He gestured to a pile of books and parchment on the floor. "Why don't you just tell the house elves to do it?"

"Because you contributed to the mess, therefore you have to help clean it." Severus gave an exasperated sigh. He pointed a withering glare at Kieran.

Kieran groaned loudly, "I don't even know why I have to do this, it wasn't my fault."

"I do not want to hear another word, young man." Severus' patience was clearly running out.

"Like servant work... Ridiculous... Potter's fault," Kieran mumbled just loud enough for Severus to hear a few words.

"If you do not cease this childish behavior, I will not hesitate to cast a silencing charm on you," Severus threatened icily and when Kieran opened his mouth to protest yet again, he added, "I will make it last the whole day."

Kieran gave a frustrated growl and turned back to the pile of books. Severus heard him continue to mumble something indistinctly and then moved to stand next to Harry. He could make out whispering, but could only hear bits and pieces of the conversation. It soon became clear that Harry was trying to ignore Kieran as he was diligently putting the books back in place and had even started sweeping the floor with the broom. Though Harry's posture was stiff and it appeared as if he was clenching his hands tightly on the broom handle.

Severus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

 _This was going to be a long day._

He just hoped that another fight wasn't going to break out again.

Harry was picking up the scattered books from the floor and was organizing them onto the shelves. All the while he was listening to Kieran's constant complaining, steadily being reminded of the way Dudley acted whenever Aunt Petunia tried to convince him to clean his room. Though that never lasted long as Aunt Petunia always ended up doing it for him anyway. Because of that, he was kind of glad that his father was still the strict disciplinarian that he'd known at Hogwarts.

He became a little anxious when his father mentioned a punishment and for a second he was worried that it was going to be something harsh like Uncle Vernon's. But when Snape led them to the library and told them what their punishment was going to be, he relaxed slightly. He had offered to clean the library yesterday and was more than willing to, as he knew he had been responsible for the mess in the first place.

Harry noticed Kieran edging towards him.

"What did you do to my Dad?" Kieran whispered so that only Harry could hear. "You did something to him. He seems... _different_." His accusing tone was hard to miss.

"Well, I didn't do anything," Harry replied, still working on picking up the books. He could see Kieran narrow his dark eyes and look suspiciously at him.

"This is all your fault, Potter. You're the one who caused this mess," Kieran growled, picking up a few books and shoving them onto the shelves forcefully.

"It wouldn't have even happened if _someone_ didn't insult my mum first," Harry retorted, turning his back on him.

Kieran made a sound of disagreement, "It's the truth, anyway."

Harry didn't say anything to that. He figured it was best to ignore him, there wasn't any point in letting Kieran get to him. He just wanted to get this done as soon as possible, not willing to be in Kieran's company any longer than was necessary.

He soon finished the books and had grabbed the broom to start sweeping the pieces of torn up parchment all over the floor. He could see Kieran trying to appear as if he was helping out of the corner of his eye. It didn't look like he had ever used a broom to sweep before in his life.

"You should be used to this. You worked like a bloody house elf the first day, I couldn't tell the difference," Kieran jeered. He was creating more of a mess than he was cleaning, constantly sweeping into Harry's neat piles.

When Harry didn't respond, Kieran continued to whisper, "Even dressed like one. Where did you get those clothes anyway? Might as well go live with them, you'll fit right in." Harry could see the smirk forming on his face and wanted to hex it off. His grip on the broom handle was a little more firm than was necessary.

It went on and on as Kieran made derogatory comments over anything and everything. Harry was soon reaching his limits of patience.

"Are you done yet?" Harry snapped, he couldn't keep the irritation out of his voice. He could feel eyes now watching the back of his head and knew that his father was watching the exchange closely. He definitely didn't want to get into another fight with Kieran, especially with Snape here. He _wouldn't_ lose his temper this time.

Harry quickly continued sweeping, using more effort than was necessary.

"More _working_ , less _talking_ ," his father said silkily from behind them. "Kieran, there is parchment that needs to be swept over there." Harry spun around and saw Snape pointing at the other corner of the library.

Kieran sauntered over, taking as much time as possible to reach it. Harry was glad that Snape had moved him, now he could focus on getting this done.

 _Seriously what was his problem? Was he trying to start another fight?_

Harry gave a frustrated sigh and didn't want to think more of on it. He didn't think he would ever meet anyone more annoying. Well, besides Dudley and Malfoy. He could see Kieran and Malfoy becoming best friends already.

Once the library was in order, Snape nodded his approval and waved his wand to vanish the swept up piles of parchment.

"Harry, I had noticed that you have finished your school assignments," Snape began after they sat down at the table for lunch. "I would like to look over them after lunch."

"Yes, sir," Harry nodded as the food appeared on the table. He was a startled that Snape would be willing to look at his work. Nobody else had been willing to before, except Hermione, but that was different. He just hoped that he did those assignments well enough.

After Harry handed him his finished assignments, Severus told the boy that he was free to do as he pleased, also giving him permission to borrow books from the library if he wanted to. Meanwhile, Severus took Kieran down to his potions lab for the second part of his punishment. He set the boy to work on scrubbing some of the tougher stained cauldrons and to mop the floor afterwards. It would be good for Kieran to do some physical labor.

The boy had begun complaining about how it would get his clothes dirty, but started working after Severus gave him a scathing glare, not bending in the slightest. His tolerance was nonexistent now. Hopefully this punishment would deter Kieran from using that sort of language again, well aware that Kieran wasn't used to this kind of work.

Now when he thought about it, that was an obvious difference between Harry and Kieran. As was shown clearly when they were cleaning the library. Severus noticed how efficiently Harry had worked. It would have taken Kieran a couple hours to do what Harry did in an hour. If someone would have told him that about Harry a week ago, Severus would have laughed in their face. But after what he discovered yesterday, it no longer came as such a surprise. Though he wasn't very pleased with how that came to be.

While Kieran was scrubbing the cauldrons, Severus had settled himself into a chair, and began looking over the essays. He soon found himself staring at the parchments, his jaw almost dropping to the floor. He was surprised yesterday to see that the boy had already done the assignments, but now he was even more shocked at the quality of them. Especially his potions essay. He had been expecting to cover the parchment with red ink, as Harry's essays have always been dismal before, but a few minutes into reading it, he had to admit that it was very well done. It puzzled him because the boy had never excelled in his class, yet there wasn't a single mistake here.

Harry had the right properties listed and even explained in the detail how the potion worked. He even included a better way to make the potion more potent. The essays for his other classes were done nicely as well. There was no doubt that the boy had put in the time and effort into these assignments. Now there was clear evidence that Harry was more capable than he showed in class. The question that came to mind was why didn't the boy display this potential and hand in assignments of this quality before?

"Hey Dad," Kieran said, disrupting Severus' thoughts. "Can we go to Diagon Alley tomorrow? I need to get my school supplies."

"I'm sure that would be fine. Harry needs to get his supplies as well," Severus said absently, still looking at Harry's essays. He missed the dark look on Kieran's face when he mentioned Harry's name.

"What's going on with you and Potter?" Severus looked up to see that Kieran had stopped his scrubbing.

"That is none of your concern, Kieran."

"There's something going on because you're acting different."

"Be that as it may, it is between Harry and myself," Severus said firmly.

"It's like you actually _like_ him now," Kieran muttered, glaring at the cauldron he'd been scrubbing.

 _So that's what this was about._ He should have known this was going to happen.

Severus contemplated before speaking, "I had wrong assumptions about him." He didn't want to tell Kieran too much.

"Like what assumptions," Kieran pushed.

"There are certain circumstances that I became aware of."

A scowl appeared on Kieran's face. "Oh, so he convinced you to side with him now?"

"Kieran, cease this insufferable attitude," Severus ordered, glowering at the boy.

It didn't seem as if Kieran heard him as the boy scoffed and continued, "What did he tell you? Some sob story about how tough his life is being the _Chosen One_?"

" _Enough_. We are done with this conversation," Severus said coldly. "Get back to work."

Kieran went back to scrubbing, this time putting more effort in, as if he was channeling all his anger into getting the stubborn stains off. He should have expected that Kieran would think of Harry as a threat, considering he never had to share anything with anyone before.

Severus gave a long sigh and focused back on the essays, planning to think more on the situation later.

That night Harry was perched on the window seat in his room staring out at Prince Manor's vast backyard. He was curled in a ball, arms wrapped loosely around his legs with his chin resting on his knees. The stars were brightly littering the dark sky as the moonlight cast a dim glow into the room. It was quiet nights like these when he could reflect on his life and just think.

He had just finished looking over a defense book that he borrowed from the library. Snape had told him he was free to do what he wanted today, but not without a warning to stay out of trouble. He even gave Harry permission to take some books from the library. His father didn't explain why he didn't have any chores today and Harry didn't ask. He gladly accepted the free day and decided to spend the time brushing up on his defense and looking up useful spells.

His heart sank when he saw his O.W.L results today. He had received an Exceeds Expectations' on his potions O.W.L, but needed an Outstanding to move onto N.E.W.T. Harry knew that it was impossible for Snape to change his mind as he had never done well in his potions classes. Snape only accepted the best students. Now he had to think of what he wanted to do after Hogwarts if he couldn't be an Auror. He'd never really put much thought into a career, with the threat of Voldemort constantly looming over his head ever since he'd found out about this world. He didn't know what the future had in store for him, all he knew was that he better be prepared to face it when it came.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a knock on his door. "Come in," Harry called, he uncurled himself when he saw his father walk in.

Snape came in quietly holding his rolled up assignments. Harry suddenly became nervous and didn't realize he was holding his breath.

His father must have come to tell him how bad his essays were.

But what his father said astonished him. "These are very well done, Harry." Snape set the rolled up parchment on the desk.

Harry stared at him in shock, hardly believing what just came out of his father's mouth.

"Thank you, sir," he murmured quietly when he found his voice again. He felt an unfamiliar warm feeling in his chest. It was a pleasant feeling that he had never experienced in his life.

The essays must have been good if the praise was coming from Snape. He knew how hard his father was to please.

He gave a shy smile, not at all used to the praise.

Severus realized that the boy must not have received praise very often in his life, if at all. He saw the way Harry's eyes lit up and the little smile he gave. It reminded him of the way Lily's emerald eyes would also light up in the same manner, accompanied with that soft smile when she received a compliment. He found himself returning a brief slight upturn of his own lips at the sight.

He moved onto a question that he had been wanting to know the answer to.

"Why did you turn in such abysmal work, when I now know that you are capable of producing better?" Severus asked curiously as he pulled out the desk chair and sat in it, facing Harry.

Harry stiffened and turned his head to look out the window. The boy looked so small as he sat on the large alcove. There was a long stretch of silence, and just when Severus thought Harry wasn't going to answer, he sighed and began speaking in a low voice, "When I was about six or seven, I got my report card, and stupidly thought they would be proud of me. Instead, I just got a beating and thrown into my cupboard for a week with no food because I had done better than _their son_." He paused before he added, "Plus he chains my trunk up so I can't do the assignments during the summer anyway."

"Those _Muggles_ were the reason that you do not do your best?" Severus asked, struggling not to snarl. He should have figured it had something to do with them. What else were they responsible for that he didn't know about yet?

And did he say _his cupboard_?

Severus' eyebrows furrowed, his tone coming out a bit harsher than he'd intended, "What did you mean, _your cupboard_?"

Harry flinched, looking alarmed at hearing the anger in his voice. Severus immediately pushed away his fury and tried to soften his features. "It was my room before I went to Hogwarts," Harry said it so quietly that Severus had to strain to hear.

"Damn Muggles," Severus muttered under his breath. Those monsters kept a child locked in a cupboard? If they thought they could get away with treating his son like this, they had another thing coming. A visit was definitely long overdue.

"That is no way to treat a child," Severus stated firmly.

"It's not a big deal, they gave me Dudley's second bedroom later," Harry muttered and turned his head to look at him with glazed eyes for a moment before starting to pick at a loose thread on his trousers. "At least they took me in. They didn't have to. I was pretty much forced onto them."

"Don't make excuses for them Harry," Severus chided gently. "Yes, they took you in, but they also should have treated you like their own."

Harry just shrugged and looked doubtful. "They could never love me like Dudley. They hate anything to do with magic. I know I was nothing more than a freak to them."

"That is why they are despicable people." He was seething inside. Severus remembered Petunia calling Lily that wretched word before she went off to Hogwarts for their first year. Apparently, she was still the same spiteful person as before.

"What would happen when you had a bout of accidental magic?" Severus asked softly, barely keeping his anger simmering below the surface.

"It'd be worse than usual," Harry replied flatly.

Severus was almost tempted to go curse them then and there. _Punishing his son because of something he couldn't control?_

They sat in silence for a few moments, both of them seemed lost in their own thoughts.

"We are going to Diagon Alley tomorrow to shop for school supplies since Kieran will also be attending Hogwarts next term," Severus said finally, breaking the long silence.

"Alright," Harry replied, getting off the alcove.

"You should turn in early tonight," Severus said, getting up and pushing the chair back underneath the desk.

"Oh, I almost forgot, do you want your shirt back sir?" Harry went into the bathroom and brought out the shirt that Severus had shrunk down for him yesterday.

"No, it is yours now. I had shrunk it down for you."

"Really?" Harry sounded surprised. "Thank you, sir."

Severus nodded, feeling a bit unsettled that Harry was thanking him for a simple nightshirt.

"Goodnight, Harry." Severus proceeded to leave the room, but stopped just short of reaching the door and turned around. "Now that I know what you are capable of, I expect all your essays to be up to that standard from now on."

"Yes, sir." That tiny smile reappeared on Harry's face. "Goodnight."


	11. Unfamiliar Territory

As Harry was going down for breakfast the next morning, he had found himself in a good mood for once, better than what he had felt in a long time actually. He couldn't help but give a faint smile at the memory that came to mind of the praise he unexpectedly received from his father last night. It still brought a pleasant warm feeling to his chest. He'd never had someone to please before and it felt great to know that he had done a good job on his assignments. It actually motivated Harry to put more effort into his work going forward now.

Just as he was about to set foot into the room, Harry froze when he saw a woman with murky brown hair and a smooth arrogant face, seated next to Kieran at the table. The woman had an air of superciliousness that Harry could discern just by the way she held her teacup, seated so prim and proper at the table. Her blue eyes went frigid when they suddenly connected with Harry's green ones. He immediately broke eye contact, realizing the similarity between this woman and Kieran. It was without a doubt that they were related as Kieran definitely inherited the same demeanors. He was just about to turn around and head back in the direction he came from when Snape spoke.

"Harry, come sit down," his father's voice commanded. Harry briefly hesitated for a second before he silently slipped into his usual seat. "This is Clarice, Kieran's mother," Snape introduced, nodding his head at the woman who gave an artificial sweet smile at Harry. It was that sort of artificial sweetness that Aunt Petunia always plastered on her features whenever she had guests visiting their house. "She will be joining us on our trip to Diagon Alley."

Harry found that he couldn't decipher any emotions from his father as his face was as stony as ever.

Before Harry could say anything, Kieran's mother spoke, "So, you are the _great_ Harry Potter." The sarcastic tone was hard to miss. She looked him up and down as if assessing the worth of a piece of furniture.

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said, squirming uncomfortably under the scrutiny.

She appeared as if she wanted to say more, but pointedly looked away and turned her attention to Kieran.

Just then the breakfast appeared on the table. Harry was glad that there was something to distract him from this uncomfortable situation. Soon after they began eating, Kieran started to talk enthusiastically to his parents, who were on either side of him. Harry listened to Kieran recount his days here to his mother, who would nod her approval or ask little questions to keep the conversation moving. He wasn't aware that Kieran was such a chatter box. After all, during these last few days, Kieran rarely talked during meals.

Harry had noticed that her eyes warmed when talking to Kieran, but as soon as they landed on Harry, it was like a switch had been flipped and they were icy once again. He didn't even attempt to wonder why that was, seeing as he was no where near figuring out Kieran. Though as every second passed he was liking Kieran's mother just as much as he was liking Kieran. There was the same attitude towards Harry that both mother and son seemed to share.

Occasionally Kieran would include Snape, directing the conversation his way when relaying his times flying with the man. Though his father didn't contribute much to the retelling, only occasionally offering a stiff nod here and there.

It brought about a pang to his chest when Harry listened to Kieran describe how much fun he had flying with his father.

 _Must be great to have a father that would do that with you._ _He doesn't know how lucky he is_ , Harry thought a little bitterly.

As the conversation continued, Harry didn't have any desire to keep watching. He looked toward Snape, "May I please be excused, sir?" Harry asked quietly when Kieran had turned back to his mother.

"No you may not, we are nearly finished with breakfast and will be leaving for Diagon Alley soon," his father replied. He glanced at the remnants of Harry's half eaten breakfast, "And you have not finished all of your breakfast."

Harry gave an imperceptible sigh before turning back to his breakfast. His good mood from only a while ago had evaporated into thin air. Shifting slightly in his seat, he stared resolutely down at his plate and attempted to eat a few more bites. His appetite was long gone though.

* * *

Once breakfast was finished, they all gathered in Snape's study.

"Harry, you and I will be using Polyjuice potion." His father uncorked two vials of thick potion from his voluminous robes, which had been transfigured from it's usual black to a dark green, "We do not want you to be seen wandering around and I do not wish to chance upon any former acquaintances. Even though your glamour has wore off and your appearance has changed somewhat, that scar of your's is still recognizable." Snape handed one to Harry, who took it warily. He remembered using this in his second year and recalled it's disgusting flavor.

"This whole vial should last the time we will spend in Diagon Alley," Snape said as he downed his vial.

Harry soon followed, tipping his vial back. He grimaced slightly at the repulsive taste. Not a moment later, Harry could feel his insides writhing and shifting accompanied by a slight burning that thankfully didn't last very long.

After the transformation completed, Harry looked up and noticed that his father's appearance had changed drastically. Snape's long black hair was replaced by a light brown shorter cut that showed a little of his ears, his usually pallor face took on a more tanned tone and became less thin. His eyes were no longer the bottomless black, instead they were a warmer hazel. The man kept his features expressionless as usual though. It was rather startling to know that it was Snape he was looking at, yet he was seeing a completely different person.

"Sir, could I see what I look like?" Harry asked, now curious about his own appearance.

"Of course." His father waved his wand, conjuring a small round mirror. Harry saw that he had the same hair and eye color as his father now. He found that he rather liked this appearance, there wasn't any doubt that they looked like father and son. Harry ran a hand through the short chestnut hair, causing it to stick up in all directions, before smoothing it down. He was immensely glad to not see his usual lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

His father then pulled out a familiar stick of wood, Harry immediately realized that it was his holly wand. Snape was holding the wand out for him to take, "Keep it in your sleeve, only use it if absolutely necessary." Harry nodded, took his wand, and slipped it securely into his sleeve.

"Seems a bit excessive for one trip, don't you think Severus. Why bother even having him come along with us?" Kieran's mother said with contempt as she eyed the scene critically.

"Harry needs to purchase school supplies as well. These precautions are necessary," Snape answered calmly.

When his father didn't receive any further response, he turned toward Kieran, who had been surprisingly quiet so far.

"Kieran, I will not tolerate any insolent behavior on this trip." Snape set his stern gaze on Kieran, also turning it on Harry for a split second. "There will also be absolutely _no_ fighting."

"Of course Dad," Kieran said, attempting to act innocently.

Snape gave Kieran a suspicious look before gesturing for them to move to the fireplace.

They flooed to the Leaky Cauldron, Harry stumbling his way out of the grate and nearly falling over if it wasn't for Snape's steadying hand on his shoulder after the man had gracefully stepped out. He flushed in embarrassment when he saw Kieran smirk. He still hadn't figured out why he could never manage to step out without barely falling on his face.

Snape led the way, with everyone following close behind. He quickly tapped the correct bricks in succession, causing them to begin shifting to form the entryway into Diagon Alley.

Since Potage's Cauldron Shop was the closest to the Leaky Cauldron, it was the first stop. Snape opened the door and motioned with his head for them to go in. Kieran and his mother went in first.

"Er, sir, shouldn't we go to Gringotts first?" Harry asked as he walked up to his father.

"Why would we need to go there?" Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Well I need money if I'm going to buy any school supplies sir," Harry replied simply. He thought that was obvious.

"You don't have to worry about that, I'm paying for your school supplies today."

Harry bit his lip, "You don't have to sir. I can pay, I just need to make a stop at Gringotts."

Snape gave him a little push forward into the store, "I am well aware, however, seeing as I am your parent, I will be the one paying." He said it in a tone that brook no arguments. Harry was tempted to protest more, but stopped himself from doing so.

Knowing that he wouldn't be taking Potion's this year anyway, Harry just hung back and watched Kieran looking through some solid gold cauldrons with his mother and Snape.

"What do you think I should get Dad?" Harry heard Kieran ask as he took down a gold cauldron.

"You have no need for a gold cauldron, those are for more advanced brewing," Snape stated matter of factly.

"Yeah but you could teach me more advanced potions and I can use this for them." Kieran tried giving a convincing look.

"There are cheaper cauldrons that are far more useful."

"Come on Dad. This cauldron is better than those old cauldrons over there," Kieran huffed, turning his head toward where Harry was pretending to be looking through a pewter cauldron. When it appeared that Snape wasn't going to budge, Kieran looked to his mother, "Mum, can I get this cauldron?"

Harry moved away before he could hear the answer, already suspecting what it was going to be. He tried to keep himself busy by checking out all the different cauldrons while he waited for them to finish.

He nearly jumped out of his skin a moment later when he suddenly heard his father's baritone voice close behind him. How did the man always manage to sneak up on him like that?

"You should select a new cauldron for next year."

Harry quickly spun around to face his father, but didn't make eye contact. "Um, I don't think I'll be taking potions next year sir. My O.W.L wasn't good enough," he said softly.

There was a slight pause before his father responded, "Considering we still have a few weeks before term begins, if you are able to prove that you are also more proficient in brewing than what you have displayed in class, as you have already shown in your written work, I am willing to make an exception." Snape had taken down a cauldron and was inspecting it.

"Really?" Harry asked, a little shocked that Snape would even offer something like that.

Since when had _Snape_ ever made exceptions for anyone?

Maybe for his Slytherins, but even then, Snape was always a strict and demanding authoritarian. He had specifically stated at the beginning of last year that he didn't allow any students that received lower than an Outstanding to be admitted into his Newt class. Snape only wanted the best of the best.

His father simply nodded, "Now, why don't you pick out a new cauldron."

"Dad!" Kieran shouted from across the store. Harry saw his father give him a withering glare, which looked strange on that unfamiliar face.

"Kieran, there is no need to shout," Snape said sternly. "If you need something, _you_ come to me."

"Yeah, but I need to _show_ you something," Kieran said casually, waving his hand for Snape to come over.

After picking out a new standard pewter cauldron, Harry had waited patiently while Kieran finished picking out his own supplies. His father shrunk all their purchases down so they could be slipped into their robe pockets. Soon they were all once again walking down the long, winding cobblestone path filled with magical shops.

The apothecary was the next stop. Looking around the foul smelling store, Harry knew he had to replenish some of his ingredients if he was going to continue taking potions next year, though he wasn't sure of all that he needed. He had picked up a basket and was looking through all the potion ingredients when Snape suddenly appeared next to him.

"I suggest you refill your supplies with these ingredients."

His father masterfully picked out the best quality ingredients that he needed. The whole time Harry was wondering why Snape was even helping him, shouldn't he be helping Kieran? It wasn't the first time that Harry had to shop for ingredients by himself as he remembered doing so in the summer before his third year. Nobody had ever been there to help him before, but he figured this was something that parents did for their kids all the time. He just never thought he would ever get the chance to experience that.

But he still had to ask, "Sir, why are you over here helping me? Why aren't you helping Kieran pick out his ingredients?"

His father paused in his examining of a rather nasty looking jar of Flobberworm mucus and turned to face him with a strange look on his face. "Because his mother is a rather competent brewer herself," Snape replied simply. "He has sufficient help."

"Oh," Was all Harry could think of to say.

It took a while for Kieran to finish getting his ingredients, but soon they were back in the streets under the hot sun. Harry ended up walking a few steps behind the three as Snape was to the left of Kieran and his mother was on his right. Kieran was happily chatting to his parents. For a brief moment, he noticed Kieran's mother snake her arm around Snape's.

 _Maybe they fancy each other,_ Harry wondered. They certainly looked like a typical family of three.

Harry could see Kieran reveling in all the attention provided by both his parents. There was an unfamiliar feeling that rose in his chest, as he watched the three together. He didn't want to acknowledge the hint of jealousy creeping up on him.

Giving his head a shake to rid his mind of unwelcome thoughts, Harry slowed down a little and tried to make it seem as if he was out shopping by himself. Attempting to distract himself, he looked around at the many items on display from the little shop windows as he walked pass them.

During the time that he was preoccupied with his surroundings, his father had somehow ended up beside him.

 _He probably noticed I was going too slow for them_ , Harry thought when Snape put a light hand on his shoulder and steered him forward slightly until they were a bit closer to Kieran and his mother. But then he felt his father give him a slight squeeze, the thin hand never leaving it's place on his shoulder.

"Hey Dad! Mum said I could get an owl as a familiar." Kieran had stopped walking until Snape was right beside him, causing Harry to once again be walking behind the three of them.

Snape nodded and had slowed his strides so that he was walking beside Harry again, but that just caused Kieran to slow down as well and stop altogether until his father was next to him. It kept going like a never ending cycle.

" _Enough._ If you continue with this irritating behavior, at this rate we will never finish. You are certainly capable of walking and talking at the same time," Snape snapped, giving Kieran a firm forward push. The man's limits of patience had apparently been reached, "Unless you wish to scrub more cauldrons when we get home."

"Don't you think that's a bit harsh Severus?" Kieran's mother questioned, shooting a short glare at Harry before looking at Snape. "He just wants to walk beside his father."

"Walk on my other side then," Snape said brusquely.

Kieran didn't seem affected by his father's irritability, "Which kind of owl do you think I should get Dad?" He just carried on with the previous conversation after glowering at Harry.

This time Harry glared back.

"Let's just wait and see what kinds they have first," his father said after giving an audible sigh.

"Maybe an eagle owl or a tawny..." Harry zoned out as Kieran continued with his constant chattering until they reached the next store. He noticed his father pinching the bridge of his nose.

As he was walking into Madam Malkin's, Harry accidentally bumped into a person that was just leaving. "Sorry," Harry quickly muttered, then he noticed the blonde hair and pointed, pale face of the person he just ran into. He almost panicked, but then he remembered that he wasn't himself at the moment. Malfoy wouldn't recognize him anyway. He definitely didn't want to start an altercation here.

"Watch where you're going next time," Malfoy sneered, sauntering past him. A woman that Harry figured was his mother, with similar pompous features and a pallor that reminded Harry of her sister, gave him a haughty once over as she walked past him. A flash of anger rushed through him and Harry had to stop himself from glaring.

"Welcome to Madam Malkin's." A short hunched over woman said once they all entered the shop, "What can I do for you today?"

"My son needs school robes for Hogwarts," Kieran's mother replied with a hand on his shoulder.

"Of course, right this way."

Kieran opened his mouth and was about to say something to Snape, but didn't get the chance as he was pulled away.

"Harry, follow me," his father said, taking his arm and directing him to the other corner of the store.

Harry was led to the part of the store that sold casual style clothing. He'd never really been to this part before as his other shopping trips here were only for his school robes.

"What are we doing over here, sir?" He looked at the many racks of clothing dispersed throughout the shop.

An assistant came over before his father could answer, "Do you two gentlemen need any help?"

"Yes, my son needs a new wardrobe," Snape said gesturing at Harry. "Shirts, trousers, pajamas, and undergarments. He needs several of each item and new school robes."

"Oh, right away sir. Come on dear, let's get you measured." Harry was pulled away before he could protest. A magic tape measure started wrapping around him with a quill that began jotting down the measurements.

"Sir, I don't need—" Harry began, but was cut off by Snape.

"I have seen your so called clothes. They are no more than rags that are better fit for a baby whale rather than a scrawny teenage boy," his father said with a bit of contempt. At Harry's flushed look, Snape's polyjuiced features softened and he gave a sigh before he put his hand on Harry's shoulder, "Harry, it was quite obvious that your abominable relatives disregarded your basic needs." His father gave him a knowing look, "Let me provide you with something they didn't."

Harry just gave a slight nod, not really knowing what to say and barely able to believe any of it. He had seen Mrs. Weasley buy new robes for Ron when he grew out of them and Aunt Petunia buying Dudley new clothes all the time, but Harry would have never imagined Snape, his father, willingly buy new clothes for him, never mind a whole new wardrobe at that. Added to the fact his father had paid for all of his school supplies so far and the trip wasn't even over yet. They still had a few more stops to make.

"All these should fit, and if you grow out of them, a simple sizing charm should do the trick." The lady started bringing out many different items, Harry was gaping at how big the pile was becoming. He was more surprised that Snape didn't tell the lady to stop. It was certainly becoming too much.

"But— sir I— that's too much!" Harry sputtered, staring at the height of the stack of folded up clothing on the counter. "I don't need that many." There were at least five of each item, with the shirts each being a different color. Everything was of high quality too and Harry shifted uncomfortably when he thought of how much this was going to cost.

His father ignored him and turned to the assistant, "We will take all of it."

"But sir—" Harry tried again, but instantly snapped his mouth shut when Snape gave him a mild glare.

Harry watched in mute disbelief while the assistant started ringing and packing everything up. When the assistant stated the staggering price, Harry's jaw almost dropped to the floor as he saw Snape easily hand her the money. That was an obscene amount of money that Snape had just spent on clothing, _for him_.

His father grabbed the packages and shrunk them, putting them in his robe pockets.

"I can pay you back sir," Harry said hastily.

Snape gave an exasperated sigh, "Harry, I don't need to be repaid. I was simply doing one of my jobs as a parent." He started heading back towards the other end of the store.

Harry followed close behind, "Still, you shouldn't have."

"I believe your birthday was recently, was it not?" his father asked, looking over his shoulder at Harry.

"Uh, yeah it was," Harry replied with a slight nod.

"Then consider it a belated birthday present."

But it was too much for even a birthday present. He had never received this much for his birthday— for all of his birthdays combined for that matter. Harry was just about to say as much, but didn't get the chance to finish.

"That was expensive though. You didn't have to—"

"Yes, I didn't _have_ to," Snape stopped abruptly and turned around, his hazel eyes held something that was unusual, "but I _wanted_ to."

There was that warm feeling again that seemed to rush through him and he couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face.

"Thank you sir," Harry said sincerely.

* * *

They were half way through their shopping trip. Severus wanted to get this over with already. Having two sons to look after who were so different was driving him almost to insanity. Just this once, he was glad that Clarice had come along. Otherwise he would have been constantly pulled in two different directions.

Though he could have done without the subtle advances Clarice was making. Severus had to pull his arm out of her grasp a couple of times when he grew uncomfortable with the closeness.

Now they were making a quick stop at the Quidditch store because Kieran wanted to take a look at the new broomstick they had on display. Severus half expected Harry to proclaim that he already had a high end broomstick and to have one over Kieran, but the boy remained silent. After the behavior he had seen of Harry today, he shouldn't have expected anything different. But this was the Quidditch store, and Severus knew for a fact that Harry had a passion for flying. Instead, said boy was just looking over the other things in the store with mild interest. Any other Quidditch enthused child would have started pointing and begging their parents for the big item on display. Sort of like what Kieran was exhibiting right now.

The differences between his two sons were striking. It was like night and day. Harry kept quiet, purposefully walking behind them and out of sight most of the time. Severus had made an effort to slow his pace and walk beside the boy, but it seemed that every time he did, Kieran would also slow down or stopped walking all together, which would push Harry back again. He didn't know how he ever thought the boy to be arrogant and striving to be the center of attention all the time, compared to Kieran who was obviously loving the attention today. Severus was just grateful that Harry didn't constantly babble like Kieran, knowing that he would have wanted to strangle the both of them before the trip was even half way over if that was the case.

Thinking back to Madam Malkin's, Kieran would have definitely jumped at the chance of receiving brand new clothes, where as Harry had made a fuss over Severus paying for his school supplies and buying him a new wardrobe. Severus had anticipated the protesting, but wasn't prepared for the twinge of sorrow he felt at seeing so much gratitude in the boy's eyes. He didn't hesitate to think that Harry had never been provided with proper clothes before, considering all his clothes were rags and many sizes too big for his thin frame. Severus could empathize with him, given his own dismal childhood, but promptly pushed those memories from his mind. It infuriated him to know that his son's basic needs weren't adequately provided for when living with those loathsome Muggles.

Severus also noticed Harry subtly checking the price tags on each clothing item. The boy seemed to be conscious of the price for each item before even considering whether or not he wanted it. He also realized how the boy didn't ask for any trivial items, only purchasing things that were needed. Sort of similar to himself. He wondered if Harry had ever bought anything that was just for his liking.

At the Owl Emporium, Severus watched Kieran trying to decide between an eagle owl or a black screech owl. While Kieran was deciding, Severus noticed Harry petting a barn owl, which was hooting and gazing intently at the boy.

Now that Severus thought about it, where was Harry's snowy owl? He was certain that it wasn't with Harry when he first arrived at Prince Manor.

Making his presence known to the boy, Severus said, "Harry, I don't recall having seen your owl."

Harry turned his attention to him, "Oh, I sent her to the Weasleys when I left Hogwarts. She's safer there anyway, better than being locked in her cage all summer at the Dursleys." He fed a treat to the owl who happily nipped at his fingers afterwards.

"Hey it bit me!" Severus spun around and saw Kieran glaring daggers at the black screech owl. "I think I want that eagle owl Dad."

After finally purchasing the owl and sending it off to Prince Manor, it was about lunch time and Kieran had started to complain about being hungry. They headed to one of the small cafes lining Diagon Alley. They were seated in one of the outdoor tables with a tall canopy shading them from the blazing sun.

While browsing the menu, Severus could see Harry fidgeting a little and biting his lip in his periphery.

He wondered why the boy seemed so nervous, but didn't have time to question it as the waiter came to the table, asking what they would like to order.

Harry's behavior became clear to Severus when the boy hesitantly ordered the cheapest thing on the menu.

 _Maybe it's the first time the boy has been taken out to eat?_

Then again, now that Harry's home life was clear to Severus, he didn't doubt it. Severus planned to change that, maybe he should take Harry out to London sometime. It would definitely be enjoyable for the boy. Harry could see new things that he had most likely never experienced before.

"Hey Dad," Kieran's voice interrupted Severus' thoughts. "What house do you think I'll get sorted into at Hogwarts?"

"I'm not sure. We will just have to wait and see." Severus crossed his arms across the table.

"I hope I get into Slytherin. You're head of Slytherin house right?" There was unmistakable admiration in Kieran's voice.

"Yes I am," Severus replied evenly.

"What house are you in Potter?" Kieran suddenly asked Harry, obviously catching the boy by surprise.

"Gryffindor," Harry replied.

"Figures," Kieran snorted and rolled his eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry retorted, he glanced shortly at Severus before lowering his gaze again.

"All brawny and brave with no brains," Kieran jeered, taking a sip of his lemonade.

"Actually the hat wanted to put me in Slytherin," Harry said suddenly, but judging by the look on his face, Severus could tell that the boy hadn't meant to reveal that.

"Why did it not?" Severus asked curiously. He was rather surprised by Harry's admission. Severus would have never thought that Harry could have been sorted into his house before. There was certainly no doubt that Harry belonged in Gryffindor. Though most likely the boy did possess some Slytherin qualities that Severus had never recognized before. It certainly would have changed things if Harry had been sorted into his house. Perhaps he would have found out about his abysmal home life sooner. Though Severus knew that he couldn't have changed the way he treated Harry in class, he was still a spy then, only recently had he quit.

"Uh, I'm not sure sir," Harry replied quickly. A little too quickly.

"I'm sure you will get into Slytherin Kieran, you have the ambition and the cunningness," Clarice reassured, smoothing out a stray piece of hair on Kieran's forehead. "Not to mention two intelligent parents that you inherited them from."

The waiter appeared at that moment with their food. Severus noticed Harry pick at his food slowly, but eventually finished it at the same time that everyone else did. When Kieran wanted to order dessert, Harry politely declined and didn't look up for the rest of the meal.

The last stop was for their school books. Severus was looking at the Potions section when he noticed Harry flipping through a defense spell book. He thought that the boy was looking through a useless quidditch book at first and was therefore surprised that it wasn't.

As if on cue though, Kieran appeared next to him, holding up one of said quidditch books, "Dad, can I get this?"

"Fine," Severus said shortly. He was tempted to say _no_ , but he knew that Kieran would just ask Clarice for it. Which would all lead to the same result anyway.

After both boys had paid for the big stack of books in their hands, they were finally finished with what felt like to Severus, the longest shopping trip ever. Just in time too because the Polyjuice potion was due to wear off any minute now. They began walking back to the Leaky Cauldron.

All of a sudden Severus heard a series of loud sharp _cracking_ sounds, followed by frightened gasps and screams. Before Severus could react, the shops closest to them exploded, the force sending them to the ground. He quickly cast a shield charm around them to prevent any of the hot debris from the explosion from falling on them. There was a thick cloud of black smoke billowing from the shops that were on fire.

"Everyone alright?" Severus asked as he stood up and dusted himself off. He looked around, trying to figure out what had happened.

He quickly realized something— no _someone_ was missing.

His breath suddenly caught in his throat as an almost paralyzing panic surged through him.

 _Where is Harry?_

Severus was certain that Harry had been just a few steps behind them when the explosion occurred, but the boy was nowhere to be seen now. All the people in the vicinity were either disapparating or running around, shoving each other out of the way. He wildly looked around at the scattering crowds of people, hoping to spot his son amongst them.

From further down the street, Severus could see Diagon Alley starting to fill with dark robed figures.

He heard a high, cold voice that made his blood turn to ice.

"What's happening?" Kieran asked in a trembling voice, hanging onto his mother.

"The Dark Lord and his Death Eaters," Severus calmly replied, though on the inside he was trying to keep the panic at bay. He quickly conjured his patronus and sent a message to Dumbledore.

"Severus, we need to leave," Clarice said, clinging onto his arm.

"I have to find Harry. You take Kieran and leave." Severus turned to head in the other direction, attempting to get his arm out of her grip but it only tightened.

"Severus, we have to get out of here!" Clarice shouted as she grabbed Kieran with her other hand.

"Come on, Dad!" Kieran cried, he was looking wide eyed at the masked figures gradually getting closer to them.

"Go on! I need to find Harry first!" Severus repeated urgently.

"No, he's not worth risking your life for! He's nothing but trouble! Can't even go anywhere without almost getting killed!" Clarice hissed, frantically trying to tug him with her.

Severus angrily ripped his arm out of her grasp. "He's my _son,_ " he said fiercely, "and I'm not leaving my son behind."

With that he headed toward the chaos, the only thing on his mind was that he needed to find his son.

* * *

 **A/N:** _It's been a hectic two weeks, my finals are coming up soon so I don't have a lot of free time. Very sorry for the long wait on this chapter, I promise the next chapters won't take as long, once my finals are done and over with in two weeks._

 _Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed so far! Your opinions mean a lot to me._


	12. A Test of Strength

When Harry was aware of the first _pops_ of apparition sounding behind him, he spun around and noticed the cluster of menacing dark robed figures appearing in the near distance. There was a high pitched, hissing voice that he could recognize anywhere. A chill went down Harry's spine as he realized what was happening.

 _Did he somehow find out I was here?_

Immediately, spells were sent flying in every direction as the ensuing onslaught of people started rushing toward the exits, pushing and shoving each other out of the way in their haste. He managed to duck in time as a spell was fired directly into a row of shops, igniting a massive explosion that sent Harry onto his back as he attempted to shield himself with his arms against the falling debris. Gasping after having the air knocked out of his lungs, Harry scrambled to get back on his feet as quickly as possible. His first coherent thought was to find his father and get the hell out of here, but just as soon as he stood up, Harry instantly dropped back to the ground on one knee as a sharp crippling pain burst forth from his scar. He gasped at the sudden pain and held his hand to where his scar would be if it wasn't for the polyjuice potion. Which must be wearing off because beginning to appear underneath his fingers were the familiar jagged edges of the famous scar.

Harry frantically looked in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron. He hoped to catch a glimpse of his father, or Kieran, but all he saw was a sea of people running around in a frenzy. Though he was glad to see some brave shop owners fighting back, amidst the chaos. Harry wove his way through the crowd, attempting to head toward the Leaky Cauldron, but was suddenly caught in a massive surge of frantic wizards and witches, pushing him even further away.

How was he going to find his father now?

Just then he noticed two twin redheads battling it out with a couple of Death Daters a few steps away from him in front of a colorfully decorated storefront. Must be the Weasley's new joke shop, Harry concluded as he remembered giving them his unwanted winnings from the Triwizard Tournament. They certainly put it to good use.

His breath caught in his throat as something caught his attention. Coming unnoticed from behind them was a Death Eater aiming his wand at one of the twins with a deadly spell forming on his lips. Before Harry was even aware of what he was doing, he had pulled his wand from his sleeve and was sprinting toward them with a shouted stupefy. The spell hit the surprised Death Eater squarely in the chest.

His sudden appearance proved to be a distraction as both twins turned around to see what just happened. One of the Death Eaters took the opportunity to send a hex at George, hitting his arm. With a pained yelp, George fell to the ground cradling the arm to his chest.

" _Incarcerous_!" Harry yelled, pointing his wand at that Death Eater before he could do anything else. Ropes sprung from the tip of his wand, bringing the man's arms to his sides as they wrapped tightly around him.

Spells were sent back and forth as he and Fred dueled the two remaining Death Eaters. The pain emanating from his scar was receding somewhat, but was still present. Harry managed to stupefy one while Fred disarmed the other before also capturing him in ropes. They hurried to check on George who had sought shelter from the battle behind an abandoned street cart.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked George anxiously, looking at his arm with concern as it stuck out in a strange angle. Fred was now kneeling beside his fallen brother with the same worried look.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," George said in a tight voice. "Thanks for the help mate."

"Yeah we came pretty close to being offed by those Death Eaters," Fred said, giving a tiny grin and a slight chuckle.

"No problem," Harry waved away the gratitude. Both twins were now looking at him with furrowed brows and questioning looks.

"You seem familiar. Have we met before?" Fred asked the question while George nodded his head in agreement. Then a breeze blew Harry's fringe away from his forehead and recognition dawned on both of their freckled features.

"Harry?" Fred asked incredulously, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah it's me," Harry confirmed and briefly ran a hand over his scar. The polyjuice potion must have completely worn off now. Though he was a little relieved that they couldn't recognize him until his scar was noticed.

"You look a bit different Harry," Fred said, taking in Harry's new appearance. "Care to tell us what happened?"

"Yeah you sort of look like someone I can't quite put my finger on right now," George added, a tiny smirk on his pale face even though he looked to be in a considerable amount of pain.

"And what are you doing here? We thought you were supposed to be at Privet Drive."

Harry sighed. Looking around at the dwindling crowds, he knew it wasn't the time to explain right now. Plus he didn't quite know how to yet. He just really needed to find his father and _leave_.

"Um, long story... Better save it for another time... I need to find—"

Before Harry could say anything else he heard that same cold voice, but it was decidedly closer then before. "Did you really think you would go unpunished, Severus?" His heart had jumped into his throat, almost preventing him from breathing as he realized who Voldemort was speaking to. "How does it feel to throw your life away for a weak boy? After being a traitor for all these years, I should prolong this for as long as possible," Voldemort said in a malicious tone. There was a moment's pause before he heard, " _Crucio!_ "

Taking a deep breath in an unsuccessful attempt to calm himself, Harry gripped his wand tightly and appeared from behind the street cart. A few steps down the street, he saw them. He heard an urgent whisper of his name by one of the twins, but he paid no attention to it.

 _No one else was going to die because of him, not if he could help it._

His heart clenched as he moved closer and saw the sight of his father, who was a crumpled heap on the ground at Voldemort's feet. The snake faced monster had his back to Harry and was standing over his father as his limbs twitched and quivered from the painful nerve stimulating curse. Though not a sound escaped from the man's tightly clenched lips.

"Leave him alone!" Harry shouted, receiving the attention of Voldemort and his father. Voldemort released the curse on Snape and turned around. Harry glared at Voldemort, but made no move to get any closer. He attempted to put up a brave front to conceal the increasing terror seeping just below the surface.

Voldemort had appeared confused for a moment before his lips turned upwards into an unpleasant smile as he closed the distance between them. "Ah, how nice of you to join us, Harry. Saves me the effort in having to find you myself." The sharp pain in Harry's scar was returning full force once again due to Voldemort's close proximity. He tried pushing the pain away, not wanting to show Voldemort any of the discomfort the scar was causing him.

"Well I'm here now. Let him go then." Harry backed up a few steps, his hand tightening on his wand. He noticed Snape's robes were a bit torn and a giant gash on his leg was bleeding. His father gave an imperceptible shake of his head as he shakily attempted to sit up. The man was even paler than usual with his long black hair plastered to his face with sweat. Their eye's connected and what he saw displayed in those dark eyes almost broke his resolve. There was a touch of anger in those depths but what was accompanying that anger was something akin to... _fear_? Since when was Snape scared of anything? Harry couldn't remember a time where he witnessed the usually stoic professor ever being frightened.

"How noble of you Harry," Voldemort sneered. "Coming to the rescue of a man who has always despised you."

"Leave him out of this. It's not him that you want," Harry repeated, a bit more firmly this time. He was trying not to panic, but he didn't see any way out of this. He just hoped that someone had alerted the Order and Dumbledore and prayed that they were on their way. Maybe he could stall until they arrived.

"On the contrary, Severus here," Voldemort gave a swift kick to his father's injured leg, causing the man to barely suppress a pained groan, "has committed the ultimate crime of treachery."

The dark wizard gave an evil smirk at Snape's obvious pain.

"And I intend to carry out the punishment for his betrayal, but I suppose I should wait to finish him now that you have arrived," Voldemort continued softly, "I want to extract every last bit of agony before I get rid of him."

His stomach clenched in fear for his father. _We'll see about that._

" _Expelliarmus_!" Harry cried, hoping to catch Voldemort off guard.

The spell was blocked with a lazy flick of the dark wizard's wrist before a silent spell was sent back at him from Voldemort's wand. Harry tried blocking it with a _protego_ , but apparently his shield wasn't strong enough and the spell broke through. He hissed as a large cut was sliced down his arm from his elbow to his wrist.

Ignoring the throbbing in his arm and the blood leaking out of the wound, Harry sent back multiple spells in quick succession. He hoped that one of them would hit their target, but Voldemort just waved his wand and all the spells disintegrated.

" _Crucio!_ " The intense pain filled every part of him, clouding his senses as the feeling of hot knifes pierced his skin. His limbs were jerking uncontrollably as he bit his lip to prevent any screams from escaping. There was no way he would give Voldemort the satisfaction. It was no wonder people could go insane from this. The pain overwhelmed everything, until nothing was left except the pain. Harry didn't know how long he was held under the curse, but it felt like an eternity had gone by before Voldemort finally lifted it.

"Did you like that Harry?" When Harry didn't respond and simply glared, Voldemort continued, "Now that I seem to have acquired your attention, onto the important matter at hand." Voldemort stared down at him with those red eyes glinting and demanded, "Tell me what you know about the prophecy."

"Why do you think I would tell you? I would never tell _you_ anything!" Harry grated out, attempting to quell the trembling as he tried to stand up. His legs were aching and he found it hard to keep his balance.

"Hmm well, perhaps a larger dose of pain will loosen your tongue," Voldemort hissed, raising his wand at him again.

He steeled himself for the waves of pain to hit his body, fully expecting the Cruciatus curse again as it was obviously one of Voldemort's favorite spells. But suddenly, he was hit with a curse that felt like a whip was slashing his back, tearing relentlessly into his flesh. It was as if someone was thrashing him, over and over. Harry collapsed to the ground on his hands and knees, gritting his teeth and making an effort to not make a sound.

 _It's not like this was new to him._

The pain kept coming in waves, getting more intense, until he was afraid he might lose consciousness at any moment.

Then curse abruptly stopped. "Have you had enough, Harry?" Voldemort asked silkily.

Harry didn't say anything, and continued to glare at that ugly snake face.

With another flick of Voldemort's wand, the curse resumed. This time he couldn't hold back his screams of agony as the curse seemed to be infinitely more painful than the last. He hated hearing the satisfied laughter coming from Voldemort. The curse was held for the longest time, and Harry was edging into unconsciousness. Right as he was about to give in to the blissful blackness, Voldemort lifted the curse.

"I must commend you on your resilience Harry, however, I have other means to achieve what I desire."

Before he was aware of what was happening, Voldemort had swooped directly in front of him, menacing scarlet eyes locking onto green ones. He instantly felt a harsh probing in his mind, tearing through his non-existent shields and ripping into his memories. The sensation was excruciating, like hot needles were being plunged through his skull. He heard a distant screaming, but wasn't sure if that was actually coming out of his mouth or happening in his mind. Snape wasn't exaggerating last year when his father informed him about Voldemort's skill in Legilimency during those terrible Occlumency lessons. He wished more than ever now that he had mastered Occlumency when he had the chance.

The cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley and all the noise that came with it had drifted into the far distance. Memories began flashing by, memories that Harry never wanted anyone to see let alone Voldemort.

 _Uncle Vernon was yelling at him for messing up breakfast; Aunt Petunia swinging at him with her frying pan; Dudley and his gang chasing after a younger version of himself; his relatives laughing at him as Ripper chased him up a tree; being thrown into his cupboard by a red-faced Uncle Vernon; him on the floor of his bedroom with Uncle Vernon looming over him, his belt raining down on him as he spewed about his worthlessness. . ._

"Ah, your Muggle relatives aren't very fond of you, are they Harry?" Voldemort's voice taunted in his head with a slight chuckle.

" _Get out_!" Harry shouted with a low growl, desperately trying to rid his mind of Voldemort's unwanted presence. Thinking back to when he was possessed by Voldemort at the Ministry of Magic, he concentrated on his more cherished memories of his friends and Sirius. The exhaustion was settling in, his last reserves of energy were slowly depleting, but nonetheless he managed to pull forth those treasured memories that Voldemort would never understand.

There were bits and pieces of memories from his years at Hogwarts with Ron and Hermione, last year's Christmas spent with Sirius, and the fun times spent with the Weasley family...

He let those little feelings of warmth, family, and happiness envelop him completely, pushing away the darkness that Voldemort was trying to smother him with.

Even a memory of Snape popped into his mind. His father's voice could be heard echoing in his head as the memories resurfaced from a few days ago.

 _You didn't deserve that... That is no way to treat a child... Because, you are my son..._

Voldemort abruptly left his mind, eliciting a loud gasp from Harry when he did. Now laying on the ground and panting, Harry watched Voldemort staring at his father before settling his gaze back on him. His head felt as if it was going to explode.

 _Please... please let the Order get here now._

He didn't think he could take anymore.

"I understand now who you received your appearance from," Voldemort said softly. "I must admit, I had thought you were better than that, Severus." His features bore a disgusted look as he pierced Snape with his red eyed gaze. "When did you have relations with that _Mudblood_?"

Snape didn't answer, but he did send a glare at Voldemort, a glare so strong it could have burnt a hole right through him.

"Tell me Severus, have you developed feelings for the boy?" Voldemort demanded.

His father had opened his mouth to reply, with what, Harry would probably never know, because the abrupt sounds of apparition prevented Harry from hearing Snape's answer. He prayed it was Dumbledore with the Order coming to help, hoping beyond hope that it wasn't Death Eaters coming to watch the show.

Before Harry even knew what was happening around them, a purple spell had emerged from Voldemort's wand, taking him by surprise as it hit him directly in the chest and turned his world black.

* * *

Severus didn't know how he always got caught up in these situations, but he was frantically looking for Harry when he ran into the worst person he could have ever ran into. After dueling with some amateur death eaters, who he took out easily, Severus was seen by his former master. The Dark Lord was less than pleased with him and he had tried his best to counter his curses, but then he was disarmed. His wand rolled out of reach. Severus ended up taking a cutting hex to his side and a bone braking hex to his leg. Soon followed by the Cruciatus curse, which Severus was already used to after being in the Dark Lord's ranks for so many years.

The only slightly comforting thought running through his mind was that he was hopefully buying Harry time to leave. He knew that Harry didn't stand a chance against the Dark Lord. The boy wasn't ready, he was only sixteen, and if the Dark Lord was occupied with Severus, there was less of a chance he would find Harry before help arrived.

But then the boy had come rushing to his aid.

His heart must have stopped beating when he saw him.

 _Foolish child!_

Why did the boy have to come save him? Why did the boy have to possess this infuriating hero complex? He wished now more than ever that Harry had some self preservation instead of always recklessly rushing into dangerous situations without a thought of his own safety.

Then the torture had started.

Severus had felt rage building in him and he struggled to sit up, reach Harry, and protect him. But no matter how hard he tried to get to Harry, his strength wasn't there to help him and the Dark Lord was also blocking his path.

A small amount of pride had fluttered in his chest when he saw Harry's endurance of those painful curses. He could tell his son was trying to stay strong, but he knew the boy was reaching the end of his rope. His heart had clenched painfully hearing his son's tortured screams, and he could do nothing to stop them. He felt utterly useless. Those pain filled screams would surely be a reoccurrence in his nightmares now. Severus had prayed desperately to any deity listening that help would get here soon.

It seemed his prayers were answered when he heard the sounds of apparition surrounding them. Relief had coursed through him when he finally saw Albus coming towards them, but it was short lived. His blood had frozen in his veins as he heard the Dark Lord whisper something in latin, creating an unknown purple spell that surged from the tip of his wand and into Harry's chest. The boy's eyes had widened in surprise before they closed and his body went limp.

The Dark Lord then disapparated before Albus could get too close, escaping capture once again, but Severus didn't seem to notice or care as his eyes were worriedly aimed at his son.

" _Harry_ ," Severus weakly whispered. His heart was thudding loudly against his ribcage as he attempted to slowly crawl over to the still form of his son, ignoring the protesting aches of his body and the pain radiating from his leg. Besides the occasional involuntary muscle spasms, Harry was very still and Severus was beginning to fear the worst. It was terror like he had never felt before.

 _Is he alive?_

"Severus, you shouldn't injure yourself further." Albus was currently kneeling beside Harry, a grim expression on his face. "Poppy is on her way."

"I need to get to my son," Severus said firmly, determined to get closer to Harry to check his condition for himself. He missed the surprised look that appeared on the old wizard's face. Once he finally reached Harry, he gently cradled the boy's head and checked his pulse. It was thready and weak but at least it was there. He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and lightly carded a shaky hand through Harry's dark hair.

 _Harry's alive. His foolish, but brave child is alive._

His relief soon transformed into anger that started forming in the pit of his stomach as he turned to looked at the old wizard. "What took you so long?" Severus demanded tightly, his voice was still a bit strained due to the pain emanating from his body.

"Voldemort had ordered his Death Eaters to surround the vicinity and set up wards around Diagon Alley that prevented us from apparating in. I had to remove them one at a time to let the Order and myself in," Albus calmly explained. "Apparently there were other attacks elsewhere simultaneously occurring with this one."

He noticed that the headmaster's blue eyes were blazing and there was a hard expression on his face as the old wizard looked at the destruction around them. Severus looked around as well and for the first time, realized how much damage had been done to the place. Many of the shop storefronts were blown to pieces and debris was littered everywhere. There was an unusual silence to the place now, the complete opposite of what it was when they arrived a few hours ago as Diagon Alley had been lively and filled with people out shopping on a warm summer day. The cobblestone street was almost empty now, except for the few Order members and Aurors walking around.

At that moment, Poppy finally arrived and their attention refocused on Harry.

"Oh, dear. He just can't get a break, can he?" She muttered softly as cast a diagnostic charm. "His body is suffering from the after effects of the Cruciatus curse and his back is in bad shape." Poppy quickly healed the large bleeding cut on Harry's arm.

"That's it? I witnessed the Dark Lord cast an unknown spell at Harry right before he disapparated," Severus said, looking down at his son's pale face, "I'm not sure what spell it was."

"Whatever it is, my diagnostic spells can't detect it," Poppy said worriedly as she cast different diagnostic spells on Harry. "I think it's best we get him to the infirmary. You too Severus."

"I think we should use the Floo, it is less stressful on the body than a portkey," Albus suggested, as he cast a featherlight charm on Harry and gently picked him up into his arms. At that moment, Severus had the urge to pluck Harry out of Albus' arms and carry his son himself, but he knew that he didn't have the strength for that right now.

"Severus, your leg is in pretty bad shape," Poppy said as she conjured a stretcher.

"No, I'm fine. I can walk," Severus bit out as he attempted to stand up. Immediately his legs buckled and Poppy had to catch him from falling back to the ground again. He groaned at the burst of pain coming from his injured leg.

Poppy clicked her disapproval, "Severus, stop being stubborn." With that she waved her wand and levitated him onto the stretcher.


	13. Cursed Memories

**A/N:** _Child abuse in this chapter. Nothing graphic_ **.**

* * *

Once they arrived at the Hogwart's infirmary, Albus and Poppy had settled Harry on one of the white beds while Severus was placed on the bed next to it. Poppy had first given him an anti-Cruciatus potion to quell his slight trembles and told him to stay on the bed to not injure his leg further. Even threatening to put him in a full body-bind if he so much as attempted to get off the bed. Severus had almost wanted to see if she would hold true on that threat, but decided against it.

In the end, Severus gave an irritated sigh as he grudgingly stayed sitting on the bed, with his injured leg propped up while he watched Poppy and Albus tend to his son.

From his bed, Severus could see his son's pale complexion, the paleness of his skin almost matching the white sheets the boy was laying on. The only color seemed to be coming from the red jagged scar that was etched vividly on his forehead. He suppressed a shudder at the remembrance of all that Harry had endure today at the hands of the Dark Lord. His son definitely braved through the torture with a fortitude Severus didn't know the boy possessed. Harry had an exceptionally high pain tolerance, though now that he thought about it, he suspected those damn Muggles had something to do with it.

However, it wouldn't have happened if the boy didn't recklessly come charging in trying to save him. It wasn't a surprise to Severus as he thought back to the many times during the last few years when Harry had recklessly ran head long into danger, seemingly with no concern whatsoever over his own life. That was something Severus would need to address with the boy as he definitely wouldn't tolerate such foolhardy behavior, especially when Harry's safety was involved.

A short gasp from Poppy drew his attention back to the present situation. They had turned Harry over so that his bare back was showing. Remnants of that whipping curse used on the boy was littered over the bare flesh. Severus winced slightly at the sight, instantly reminded of a couple days ago when he had discovered the boy's back in a similar state. At least there weren't any additional bruising on Harry's body this time, but considering these wounds were caused by magic, they would definitely take more time to heal.

Poppy raised her wand and summoned some salves that came flying from her office.

Once the boy's back was covered fully with the salve and any other physical injuries on Harry were resolved, she came over to Severus and began healing his broken leg, while he watched, a bit impatiently.

"Severus, you should really rest after this," the mediwitch advised as she finished mending his leg. "Harry is fine for now."

Before Severus could reply, their attention was caught by a quiet moan.

Severus turned to look at his son, who was pale and pasty, sweat starting to form on his brow. Suddenly Harry's moans grew louder and his head began turning from side to side, in the beginning of what appeared to be another nightmare.

Ignoring Poppy's protests, Severus stood up and swiftly made his way over to Harry's bedside.

"Harry," he said, cautiously putting a hand on the boy's thin shoulders and gently trying to shake him awake. "It's just a nightmare."

"Mum! No please... don't... go..." Harry whimpered, not at all yielding to Severus' efforts to wake him up. "He's going to _kill_ you!"

Severus instantly froze, his blood running cold.

Did Harry somehow— No he _couldn't_ have...

The boy was only about a year old at the time, how could he _possibly_ remember...

"No... take me instead... please... don't leave me..." Harry continued his distressed mumbling as tears began leaking from the corners of his eyes.

Snapping out of his turbulent thoughts, Severus shook his son harder. "Harry! Wake up!"

There was a fleeting moment of panic, constricting his chest before he pushed it down.

"Why won't he wake?" He was growing increasingly more worried, but forced a calm tone, only allowing a small amount of his distress to seep into his voice.

Then he remembered, "That spell..." Severus sharply turned to Albus and Poppy, who were watching Harry worriedly beside him. "What _was_ that spell?"

"I don't know, the diagnostic charms aren't showing anything wrong other than what we already know," Poppy said as she shakily ran her wand over Harry once again.

"The Dark Lord had muttered it under his breath, right before he disapparated. It was something in Latin," Severus mentioned, now looking directly at Albus, half expecting the Headmaster to already know the spell and the counter curse for it.

"It must be a rather complicated spell if Poppy cannot detect it," Albus commented as he stroked his beard thoughtfully, concern showing in those blue eyes. "Severus, I will need to examine that memory of Voldemort casting it."

Just then, there was a loud chilling cry from Harry. His scar seemed to have burst open as blood started leaking down the boy's forehead, the redness around the wound making it appear as if it was recently acquired.

 _What is happening?_ Severus looked on in horror, absolutely hating that he didn't know what was causing this. Poppy fretfully began cleaning the blood from Harry's forehead and tending to the scar.

After a few moments, Harry seemed to have settled, but was still muttering incoherently, too quiet for anyone to make out what he was saying.

"Severus, accompany me to my office. I wish to see that memory." Albus then turned to Poppy, "May we use your floo Poppy?" After receiving a quick nod from the mediwitch, Albus started heading toward Poppy's office. "And keep an eye on Harry, Poppy. If this happens again, please inform us."

"Of course, Headmaster."

Severus hesitated, not wanting to leave Harry's side at the moment, but also knowing that giving Albus the memory would be crucial to figuring out this spell. After giving one last worried look at his son, Severus followed Albus into Poppy's office and through the green flames into the headmaster's office.

Albus brought out his pensieve, settling it in front of his desk. No words were exchanged as Severus immediately brought his wand to his temple and focused on the needed memory. As soon as the silvery strand was dropped into the basin, Albus went in followed closely by Severus.

Just as they landed, Severus could hear the Dark Lord saying, _"Tell me Severus, have you developed feelings for the boy?"_

Severus noticed Albus turning to memory Severus on the ground, as if waiting to hear his answer to the question, but it would never come as the sounds of apparition filled the street and memory Albus could be seen coming their way. This time Severus was paying close attention to the Dark Lord, but as the spell left his former master's lipless mouth, the latin was lost to him as he once again witnessed the spell flying into his son. Just rewatching the scene again was enough to cause Severus' heartbeat to speed up as he saw those green eyes clouded with pain and then surprise before the spell took over. It was a sight that Severus hoped to never see again.

The memory ended there, and they were back in Albus' office.

Silence filled the office for a few minutes, both men seeming to be lost in their own thoughts.

"Did you hear the incantation?" Severus asked, breaking the silence and turning to Albus. He noticed the contemplative look on the old wizard's face.

"It is a spell I am not familiar with," Albus sighed as he shook his head.

"Any ideas as to what it is then?"

"I have my guesses, but I will need to look into it to be certain." Albus waved his hand, making several books fly off the shelves and stack themselves on his desk.

The headmaster took a seat at his desk and flipped through a large tome, until he came across the page he was looking for. Severus tilted his head to read the text, but was interrupted when a green fire started in the fireplace signaling a Floo call. It was Poppy.

"Come quickly, it's happening again," Poppy said simply before her head disappeared from the fire.

Without another thought, Severus quickly grabbed a pinch of floo powder and arrived back in the infirmary. The sight that he encounter caused a pang in his chest. It appeared as if Harry was in the throes of another nightmare, similar to that night at Prince Manor. The boy was thrashing almost wildly about as if fighting off an invisible force.

"I have charmed the bed so that Harry won't fall out of it." Poppy was visibly distraught, "I tried waking him, but like before, he won't wake."

Severus went closer to his son, and again put his hands on the boy's shoulders to give him a little shake. He immediately pulled back when Harry violently recoiled from his touch. "Harry! Please wake up..." A part of him knew that it wasn't going to work, but he tried anyway. He hoped that Harry could at least hear him, but that was becoming more unlikely.

"I'm s-sorry, Un-uncle Vernon..." Harry mumbled, "For b-burn-ning b-breakfast."

Severus felt unmistakeable fury ignite within him when he heard that abominable Muggle's name.

"Perform Legilimency on him, Severus." Albus voiced from beside him, almost startling Severus with his sudden appearance. "See what is going on inside his head."

"Why?" Severus questioned, not taking his eyes off his son.

"I suspect that these are not really nightmares," Albus simply replied.

Severus turned to look at the headmaster for a second before he nodded and cupped both hands on either side of Harry's head. His fingers resting on the boy's temples as his thumbs gently opened Harry's unseeing eyes.

He looked deeply into those emerald depths and whispered, " _Legilimens_."

* * *

Severus suddenly found himself in what appeared to be the kitchen of a Muggle home. He looked around and instantly scowled when he saw the thin bony form of Petunia, sitting at the table with a rather large child who appeared to be wailing his head off. He briefly wondered what the obese child was sniveling about as he watched Petunia pat the child on the back, attempting to calm the child down with promises of more sweets and treats.

Then he noticed a large overweight man in the kitchen who seemed to be glaring down at the floor. Moving closer to the scene, Severus saw a small bespectacled boy who looked to be no older than four or five years old. The little boy was noticeably trembling as he tried to press himself as much as he could into the corner of the kitchen, away from the frightening man. Severus' breath caught in his throat as he caught sight of those familiar green eyes, so full of fear.

It didn't escape his notice that Harry looked like a mini James Potter, which means that Lily's glamour was still on.

 _Was this a memory then?_ Severus reasoned, _Does the spell replay Harry's worse memories?_

His thoughts were disrupted when a loud voice caused him to jerk his head back to the scene playing out in front of him. The fat walrus of a man had grabbed onto young Harry's small wrists, shouting angrily into the little boy's face, "Nothing but a worthless freak! Can't even cook breakfast without burning it!" The man started violently shaking Harry, who was futilely fighting the tight grip. "Now my Dudders is upset because he doesn't have his breakfast!" Severus noticed the remnants of a burnt breakfast on the floor next to them along with the hot pan it was cooked on.

"P-please, I-I'm s-sorry, Un-uncle Vernon!" The little boy stammered, his small body trying to curl into himself as much as possible with Dursley's hold on him. Severus could hear the child continuing to plead with the large man and apologizing for the ruined breakfast. Though nothing seemed to calm Dursley's anger.

His alarm grew exponentially as he witnessed Dursley roughly take Harry's small hands and held them against the hot stove. The high pitched screams of agony that followed from his son sent waves of rage through Severus, making him want to curse everything in sight, beginning with that fat Muggle. Severus struggled to control his temper as his son's cries continued, tears were now flooding down his little boy's pale face. It was like torture for Severus, having to listen to those gut wrenching screams coming from his son, knowing he could do nothing to stop them.

"Vernon, the boy's getting too loud, I don't want the neighbors to hear," Petunia hissed in her shrill voice as she turned toward the scene.

Severus glared at the horse faced woman, his anger reaching new heights.

How could Petunia stand by and let this happen to her own nephew?

"Shut up boy!" Dursley backhanded Harry across the face, sending him falling toward the ground and immediately quieting him. Harry looked up at the man with terrified green eyes before biting his lip in an attempt to quiet his sobbing. Severus could make out the horror written on the boy's face as he stared down at his red palms that were swollen with blisters, an endless amount of tears streaming silently down the boy's pale face. He reached toward his son before remembering that he couldn't touch him, his hand had went completely through the boy.

How he wished he could run up and scoop his son into this arms and hex the fat menacing man into oblivion, but it was just a memory. There was absolutely nothing he could do about it now. This scene had taken place many years ago.

It was one thing to hear about what happened in that house, but it was another to actually witness it himself.

What kind of person would deliberately put a young child's hands onto a hot stove, for something so inconsequential as burning breakfast? Even Severus' abusive father wasn't this cruel, sure he was drunk and violent at times, but his father never even came close to this. Severus was lucky that he at least had his mother he could go to when dealing with his drunken father, but it appears that Harry had no one.

This little boy had no one that cared to help him.

His son had to grow up like this...

 _If only I had known sooner..._

Having seen enough, Severus left Harry's mind.

* * *

He stumbled backwards as he pulled out, Albus had to steady him with a hand on his elbow.

"It's a memory," Severus hissed softly, closing his eyes for a moment to hide the torrent of emotions he knew could be seen in them. He was still reeling from what he just witnessed in the boy's mind.

His thoughts went back to earlier.

If the spell brings about Harry's worst memories, then that must mean what happened earlier with his scar, was the night—

 _He's going to kill you!_ Harry had shouted earlier.

Severus shook his head, pushing those crippling emotions behind his shields.

"What did you see Severus?" Albus asked softly, as the old wizard put a hand on his shoulder.

Before Severus could answer, Poppy cut in.

"While you were in there, Harry had started screaming as these serious burns started appearing on his hands," Poppy mentioned, obviously distressed over not knowing how to help her patient.

Severus took Harry's hands gently into his own, and noticed with alarm that Poppy was right. There were the exact same burns on Harry now as Severus had seen on a younger Harry in the memory. Also starting to appear are the bruises on Harry's wrists from Dursley's rough grip.

 _The memories are affecting him in the present as well..._

"It was a memory of Harry's despicable Uncle putting a younger Harry's hands on the stove as punishment for burning breakfast," Severus said not hiding his anger. "It seems that any damage that was inflicted from his _relatives_ ," he spat out the word, "are also affecting him now."

"So Harry is reliving his worst memories?" Poppy asked, putting a hand over her mouth. "Then the first memory must have been the night he received his scar..."

Albus nodded, "It appears to be a memory curse, however, I have never read of one where the memories could also affect the victim physically." His features were grim.

"Oh, what do we do Albus?" Poppy asked worriedly as she hurried to heal Harry's palms, summoning a burn salve and beginning to apply it onto the blistered flesh. "This is only going to get worse, knowing those Muggles."

Severus silently agreed, remembering the injuries that he discovered on Harry a few days ago back at Prince Manor.

"The most we could do at this point is to keep healing his injuries as they appear until a counter curse is found." Albus looked down sadly at Harry, though Severus noticed a hint of anger within those blue eyes. "I will be in my office looking through my collection of ancient spell books," the headmaster said, beginning to head back towards Poppy's office.

"I will help you." Severus quickly made to follow Albus.

"Not to worry, Severus, I will find the counter curse," Albus said, stopping him by putting a hand up. "You should go freshen up and rest. It has been a trying day for you."

Severus was about to argue that he was _fine_ and was definitely able to help look for the counter curse, but then he realized that he was still in his ruined robes with blood stained in various areas.

Now that he thought about it, he should probably return to Prince Manor to freshen up, and also check up on Kieran and Clarice while he was at it. He could quickly come back here to help Albus afterwards.

He hated the idea of leaving his son here, suffering from his memories, but there was nothing they could do until a counter curse was found.

Making up his mind, Severus grudgingly said, "Fine, but I will be back soon."

Albus look at him over his half moon spectacles, but didn't say anything more as he gave a brief nod before heading back to his office.

Poppy sighed, before saying, "I agree with Albus, you should really rest Severus. I will alert you if something happens with Harry."

Severus stiffly nodded as he lightly brushed a strand of hair from Harry's forehead. After giving one last look at his son, Severus made his way to the Floo.

* * *

When he stepped foot out of the Floo at Prince Manor, he noticed that Kieran and Clarice appeared to be waiting for him in the study. Kieran was sitting in the chair while Clarice appeared to be pacing in front of his desk.

 _Well at least they had made it home safely._

"Where have you been, Severus?" Clarice demanded, as she took notice of him. She stopped her pacing and went to stand in front of him, giving him a once over. "What happened? You look awful."

Kieran had come to stand next to his mother, taking in his appearance with wide eyes, "Yeah what happened, Dad?" There was worry evident in his voice.

Severus gave a long sigh, he really didn't want them to see him in this state. "I will explain later, after I have freshened up and changed out of these robes." He said shortly and swept past them.

After taking a much needed shower to strip the layer of grime and sweat from his person, Severus put on his usual black robes. His exhaustion from this long day was beginning to settle in, but he shoved it aside. He wouldn't rest until they found the counter curse for Harry and only once Severus knew for certain that his son was no longer suffering from his memories.

On his way back to his study, Severus passed by Kieran's room and decided to look in on the boy. He just wanted to make sure the boy was fine before returning to Hogwarts.

The door was half open and from what Severus could see of the room, Kieran was lying on his stomach on the bed, facing away from the door.

He knocked on the door before entering the room.

"Dad," Kieran said when he saw Severus. He hastily got up from his bed and came to stand in front of him. Severus took the time to look Kieran over.

The boy appeared to be fine.

"Are you alright?" Severus asked once he checked the boy over.

"Yeah, thankfully Mum and I made it out of there really quickly." He noted the slight shakiness in Kieran's voice.

Severus nodded his head, "I am glad you escaped unharmed."

"Are _you_ okay, Dad?" Kieran asked as his dark eyes raked over Severus, "What happened? You got hurt, didn't you?" His voice contained a hint of anger.

"I'm fine now, you don't have to worry," Severus said smoothly, "and what happened today is none of your concern."

Kieran didn't look convinced, "You weren't fine! You came back with blood staining your robes!"

"Yes well, Madam Pomfrey already healed me, there is no need to worry further."

Kieran sighed as he looked away, "Where's Potter? He didn't come back with you."

"He is in the hospital wing at the moment. I need to get back there soon."

"But you just got back home not too long ago!" Kieran moved closer and looked up at him.

"I will be back as soon as I can," Severus assured.

Kieran went silent for a few moments. Severus studied him, noting that there seemed to something bothering his son. He waited, hoping that Kieran would come out and say what was on his mind.

"I thought that you weren't going to spy anymore," Kieran said quietly after a while, "that you weren't going to be a part of the war anymore."

Severus sighed, "Yes, I'm no longer spying, but that doesn't mean that I'm not still a part of this war." He remembered this being a problem when he first found out about Kieran and before the boy came to live with him. He didn't think much of it then, because his cover had been blown and his spying days were over a few days after Kieran began staying with him.

"But why Dad? It's so dangerous!" Kieran's voice grew louder, his obsidian eyes that he inherited from Severus were glistening, "You could have been killed today!"

Unsettled by Kieran's outburst, Severus put a hand on his son's shoulder, "Calm down, Kieran."

Then Kieran abruptly launched himself at Severus, arms wrapping around his middle, and his head coming to rest against Severus' sternum. Taken completely by surprise, Severus froze, not quite knowing what to do. He was shocked to see this display from Kieran, having never seen this side of the boy before.

"I don't want to lose you too, Dad," Kieran muttered against his chest. "I just found you not too long ago."

"You won't lose me Kieran," he replied softly and settled for awkwardly patting his son's back.

"You were taking a long time to get back... I thought..." Kieran trailed off and buried his face in Severus' robes.

His heart twinged at hearing the distress in Kieran's voice. Maybe this attack had affected Kieran more than he thought. Severus slowly wrapped his arms around Kieran and light cupped the boy's head, not really knowing what to say. He'd never been a person that was proficient at providing words of comfort.

"You were hurt looking for Potter today," Kieran muttered bitterly, still clinging onto him.

Now _this_ was something that they still needed to discuss. He couldn't let this hatred Kieran has for Harry go on any longer. Kieran needed to understand that Harry was also his son, whether he liked it or not.

Severus pulled back, but kept both hands on the boy's shoulders.

"It was not his fault," Severus began in a firm tone, looking Kieran in the eyes. "You are just going to have to accept the fact that Harry is also my son just as much as you are."

Kieran looked away, muttering under his breath, "Not bloody likely." It was said almost too quietly to hear, but Severus still heard it.

"Unless you wish to scrub more cauldrons tomorrow, I suggest you refrain from using that kind of language," Severus warned, aiming a glare that wasn't nearly as potent as usual at the boy.

Kieran sighed before tiredly nodding his head, the boy seemed worn out.

Severus glanced at the clock and realized it was getting pretty late.

"You should get some rest, it has been a long day." Severus steered his son over to his bed and helped Kieran get settled.

Just when Severus was about to leave, Kieran weakly grabbed onto his arm and said in a tired voice, "Can you stay a bit longer, Dad? Please?"

Severus gave an inward sigh, but after seeing how affected Kieran was from the day's events, he decided to give in to his son's request. He sat down on the boy's bed and said softly, "Alright. Go to sleep, Kieran."

* * *

After making sure that Kieran was asleep, Severus headed back to his study, fully intent on heading back to Hogwarts to check on Harry. Also to check in with Dumbledore, hoping that he had found the counter curse.

When he reached the study, he was a little surprised to see Clarice still there, where he had last saw her.

"You should get some rest, Clarice," Severus said as he noted the way she was sitting in that chair.

Clarice shook her head as she stood up, going to lean a hip on his desk. "I can't without speaking with you first," Clarice said, her eyes locking onto his. "I was worried Severus. You had taken a long time to return." She had grabbed a hold of his arm.

Uncomfortable with the closeness, Severus pulled his arm away from her reach. "Are you sure you're alright?" Clarice asked softly.

"Yes," Severus said simply.

Clarice sighed, as she put a hand on her face, "You should have seen the state Kieran was in. I had to give him a calming draught."

"I know. He's in bed now," Severus replied.

There were a moment of silence before it was broken by Clarice.

"This war is too dangerous Severus. I don't want Kieran to be involved," Clarice said, an angry glint in her eyes, "My first priority is his safety and your's should be too."

"It is," Severus agreed evenly. "Harry's as well."

He saw her blue eyes flash.

"Since when did you start caring so much for the boy?" Clarice demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. "If I recall correctly, you were against him coming to stay with you. What changed?"

"That _boy_ , is my _son_!" Severus snarled, "Just as much as Kieran is."

"Look at how much danger he puts everyone in! We can't even go to Diagon Alley without almost being killed," Clarice accused. "It's astounding how everyone is fawning over him, with all the trouble he causes!"

"None of that is Harry's fault!" Severus snapped, "He cannot help it if a dark wizard is constantly trying to _kill_ him!"

"We could have died today, Severus! All because of that _boy_!"

"I will repeat," Severus hissed slowly, emphasizing each word, "It was not Harry's fault."

Clarice looked as if she wanted to continue her tirade, but abruptly shut her mouth and turned away from him. There was a moment of tense silence before she spoke again, softly this time.

"Kieran deserves to have a father in his life. He has been without a father for too long."

"And Harry doesn't?" Severus retorted, crossing his arms.

To be honest, Harry deserved more than Severus could provide him. Kieran's childhood was infinitely more pleasant than Harry's, having a loving mother which was more than Harry had growing up. He also didn't have to deal with an evil dark wizard constantly attempting to kill him, having to be the savior of the wizarding world, and relatives that despised his existence. His mother also provided him with everything that he could ever want, the only thing Severus thought had been missing from Kieran's life was a father figure, but he had that now.

Clarice didn't seem to have heard him at all, appearing to be lost in her own thoughts. Her previous anger appearing to have dissipated into thin air as her shoulders drooped slightly, "We could have lost you today. I don't want Kieran to ever have to go through something like that again, especially after—"

She abruptly stopped herself and shook her head. Severus narrowed his eyes at her, wondering what she was about to say, but didn't have time to question it as the Floo flared green with Poppy's head appearing in the flames.

"Severus, it's getting worse. I need your help this time," Poppy said quickly, her voice giving way to the distress she was feeling.

"Move out of the way Poppy, I'm coming through." He didn't think twice as he grabbed a pinch of Floo powder, not looking back as he heard Clarice calling his name before he rushed into the green flames.


	14. Through the Storm

_Seven year old Harry had never seen his Aunt and Uncle so angry before. It wasn't like he did it on purpose_ — _whatever he did that is. He had absolutely no idea how he'd managed to end up on the school roof. It was as if he was somehow magically transported up there. The last thing he remembered was being chased by Dudley and his gang, about to be pummeled to the ground in their daily dose of 'Harry Hunting.' He had been cornered and recalled desperately wishing that he could escape. The next thing he knew, he was on the school roof, looking down at his attackers with a brief sense of satisfaction before realizing how much trouble he would be in. Uncle Vernon hated whenever he did anything freaky. Even worse was that he sort of attracted the attention of the whole school._

 _Harry knew he was in for it when they arrived home, after the Dursleys spoke with the headmistress about the stunt he had pulled. As soon as the car parked in the driveway, Uncle Vernon had forcefully pulled him from the car, through the house, and into the kitchen. Aunt Petunia followed and ended up simply glaring hatefully down at him._

 _"You really done it now boy!" Uncle Vernon shouted, his face turning an unpleasant shade of red and one of his chubby finger shaking in front of Harry's face._

 _"I didn't mean to! I don't know how I did it!" Harry tried to explain, backing away and pressing himself into the counter, "It just sort of happened_ — _It was like mag_ — _"_

 _"Don't say that word!" Uncle Vernon roared, causing Harry to flinch. "What did we say about never speaking that word?"_

 _"S-sorry, Un- Uncle Vernon!" Harry stuttered._

 _"I warned you boy!" His shirt was grabbed by a meaty hand, pulling him closer to the round menacing man. Harry could feel his anger vibrating within his chubby hands. With one hand still holding onto Harry's shirt, Uncle Vernon deftly undid his belt from around his wide waist. He waved it around menacingly and slapped it on the counter, making a loud snapping noise before he hissed, "I will not tolerate any more of your freaky outbursts!"_

 _Harry's breath caught in his throat as he realized what his punishment was going to be._

 _"P-please Uncle Vernon— I didn't mean to_ — _I promise I-I'll be good!" Harry pleaded as he threw his hands up and tried to squirm away from Uncle Vernon's strong grip. He was suddenly backhanded across the face with the beefy hand that was holding onto this shirt and fell back against the counter. Putting a hand up to cover the sting on his cheek, Harry couldn't help the tears that began filling into his eyes and blurring his vision._

 _"I'll make sure you never do anything freaky again, even if I have to beat it out of you!" There was a sort of maniac gleam in Uncle Vernon's eyes that terrified him._

 _This had been the worst night of his life. It was worse than that one time he had somehow turned his teacher's wig blue. For that, he was simply locked in his cupboard for a couple of days without food and was smacked around a couple of times, but this was the first time that Uncle Vernon punished him with a belt instead. Harry had tried to scramble away, but that only made Uncle Vernon more furious, earning Harry an extra punch in the ribs for the effort. At one point, he had pathetically begged Aunt Petunia for help, but she just gave him a disgusted glare and looked the other way._

 _He really should have known better. Nobody ever cared about him anyway._

All those unpleasant memories that Harry wanted banished and locked away in the back of his mind had been pulled forth. Replaying one after the other, continuously without reprieve.

Even worse, it seemed as if he could also _feel_ them as well. Every slap across the face from a rough hand, every lash with that leather belt, and every punch to the ribs could be felt as if he was actually _there_ reliving it.

Now as he endured the searing pain of the belt lashing his back, his Aunt and Uncle's cruel remarks seemed to whirl around him, echoing loudly in his mind.

 _Nothing but a worthless freak... Burden to my family, you are..._

 _Should have dropped you off at the orphanage... See if anyone would want to deal with your strangeness…_

 _Nobody would want you... Ungrateful little freak... Always causing trouble…_

It was true.

No matter what he did, Harry would always be the freak, the burden, the orphan that was dumped on their doorstep.

Nothing more to them. _Or to anyone._ A cruel voice reminded him.

It was becoming unbearable.

There was no end in sight.

He was trapped.

Harry tried screaming, shouting, and pleading for something— _anything_ that would allow him to escape this hell he was in, but everything he did was useless. No one seemed to hear him.

 _Why bother though?_ _What was the point?_

There was nobody that would save him, like usual.

So the memories continued on... Relentlessly. Mercilessly.

* * *

Severus couldn't push away the sense of helplessness as he caught sight of Harry thrashing violently on the bed, his son's body convulsing as if being struck by an invisible force.

 _It was happening again, but I can't bring him out of it. This damn curse..._

Shaking his head slightly, Severus forced his legs to take him to Harry's bedside. His heart clenched painfully in his chest as he took in the tears beginning to leak from underneath his son's closed eyelids. "Harry..."

"It's getting worse," Poppy commented from beside him.

Not a moment later, Severus noticed a bit of red staining the white hospital sheets beneath Harry. Apparently Poppy noticed as well because she quickly waved her wand, flipping Harry onto his stomach and vanishing the pajama shirt that was becoming bloody. He heard a sharp intake of breath from Poppy, as he saw welts forming on the still healing pale skin. The wounds from the Dark Lord's brief torture session was still in the process of fully healing and now red lines were beginning to appear, crisscrossing horizontally on top of those scars. It was sickening to watch as the skin broke open along those red lines, blood rushing to the surface at the open wounds. Purple bruises were beginning to form on Harry's face and arms as well.

Harry was continuously mumbling apologies to that abominable Uncle of his, along with other phrases that were repeated over and over. Severus clenched his hands into fists, very much wanting to go strangle those Muggles at that moment. He struggled to keep those powerful emotions under control as he focused on the matter at hand.

"Merlin... I'm going to have to restrain him." Poppy raised her wand, immediately stilling Harry's flailing limbs and settling them to his side.

Then she waved her wand again, this time in a complicated motion, conjuring a large sheet of parchment above Harry's bed. He noticed it beginning to list the injuries on Harry's body so far.

"To keep track of the injuries," Poppy simply explained as she summoned many potions and salves. They came floating from her office and landed lightly on the bedside table.

Severus wordlessly nodded, staring at the growing list.

"Severus," Poppy called, "come on, we need to hurry."

For an hour or so, Severus and Poppy worked silently on Harry, healing injuries one after the other as they appeared.

 _How could anyone beat a child this severely?_ It was truly terrifying how long this incident seemed to last. The injuries just kept forming.

Severus found himself wondering just how Harry had survived this ordeal the first time. This was most likely the worst punishment that Harry had suffered through. The only possible explanation Severus could come up with was that Harry's magic had assisted the healing process. It was a good thing that wizards are capable of healing much quicker than Muggles.

By the end, Severus was truly feeling his exhaustion from this endlessly long day. It was appalling how many cuts and bruises they had healed, along with setting a few broken ribs and a slight concussion.

"Harry is stable for now. It seems that was the last of the injuries," Poppy said as she cleansed the sheets of various blood stains. They had made sure that all wounds were healed and new ones were no longer forming.

She resettled Harry on the bed and spelled a clean pajama shirt on him before pulling up the covers to just below his chin.

"One of these days, I'm going to pay those Muggles a visit," Severus muttered as he used a damp cloth to gently dab at Harry's sweaty forehead. Those Muggles would most certainly feel Severus' wrath, he would make sure of it. No one hurts a child like this and gets away with it, especially not _his_ child.

"Well, it's about time someone did," Poppy sighed. "It's absolutely inexcusable what they did to Harry."

Severus nodded, and his thoughts drifted to something else that urgently needed to be taken care of first.

Now more than anything, Severus wished that he knew how to undo this awful curse. He didn't think there was anything worse than helplessly standing by and watching his child suffer.

After a few more moments, Severus turned and swept toward the Floo, intent on checking on Albus. He hoped the old man had found the solution to this horrible curse. He gave one more glance at his son before he stepped into Poppy's office and disappeared into the green flames.

Arriving at Albus' office, Severus noticed the stack of large tomes cluttering the headmaster's desk along with pieces of parchment strewn in the mix. Albus was perusing a book and looked up when the old wizard saw Severus arrive.

"Ah Severus, how is Harry?" The old wizard asked, setting aside the book and giving Severus his full attention.

"Not well," Severus said curtly. He started pacing back and forth, using the limited space in front of Albus' desk. "Poppy and I have just healed Harry after one of his memories played out. There were multiple lacerations on his back, a few broken ribs, and a slight concussion."

"I see," Albus said calmly, seemingly unsurprised, which only made Severus' blood boil.

Severus abruptly paused in his pacing and narrowed his eyes at the old wizard, "Did you _know_?"

This was something that Severus meant to ask Albus. The headmaster must have seen signs of the mistreatment all these years, being close to Harry for the last five years. Why didn't he do anything about it? Surely the blood wards weren't that important when those monsters hurting his son was also inside them.

The headmaster looked up at him and raised a white eyebrow, "Did I know what exactly, Severus?"

"Were you aware of what went on in that house?" Severus growled, crossing his arms and aiming a glare at Albus.

Albus gave a sad sigh, "I knew that Harry wasn't loved in that home, but I never knew it went that far. At the time, it was the only place that could keep Harry safe. The blood protection—"

"I don't give a damn about the blood wards!" Severus snapped, running an agitated hand through his hair. "Did you even have the mind to check on him all these years? He was far from safe!"

"I had misjudged Petunia's feelings over magic," Albus respond calmly, unperturbed by Severus' anger. Though there was a sadness that lingered in the old wizard's blue eyes.

"She was always spiteful— jealous of Lily's magic. What made you think it was good idea to leave Harry in her care?"

"I had hoped she would have settled her feelings on magic to care for her sister's orphaned son."

" _Obviously_ , she had _not_. Otherwise, my son would not have been neglected and mistreated by that _fat slob_ of a Muggle she married."

"I do regret leaving Harry there," Albus admitted softly. The old wizard looked every bit his old age as he slumped forward slightly in his chair, rubbing a hand down his face. "But I believed it was for the best."

Severus sank into the chair in front of the headmaster's desk, and gave a wary sigh. The anger was slowly being replaced with a deep exhaustion that seemed to settle into his bones.

"All these years, why didn't anyone notice? Surely, you or Minerva could have seen the signs." _Or I should have noticed them_ , Severus finished in his head. He had always prided himself on his observation skills, but they had truly been lacking these last few years whenever it came to his son.

Albus gave a short nod, "Harry was rather adept at concealing it. I am fairly certain he did not even tell his best friends."

Severus knew that was true, remembering the well cast glamour he'd found on his son just a few days ago. "Yes, Harry was concealing his old scars and injuries with glamours. It was only because they had fell that I found out about abuse." He wished that he had seen it sooner, maybe it would have prevented the existence of many of those scars.

There was a sorrowful expression on the old wizard's face. When Albus didn't respond, Severus continued, "I intend to visit those Muggles one day to make sure they get what they... rightfully deserve." He gave Albus a look that dared the old man to try to stop him.

"Of course, and I won't stop you," Albus replied. "In fact, I may even accompany you on that visit." There was an intense look in those blue eyes, uncommon on the usually kind looking headmaster.

Severus inclined his head at that. Silence filled the room for a moment before Albus spoke again.

"Well I must admit," Albus' features softened and a smile appeared on his face, "I am rather pleased with the change of heart Severus. It is what Harry needs more than anything right now."

Severus looked away when the old man's usual twinkle reappeared in his blue eyes. He settled for a small nod of his head, not knowing how to respond to that.

Now for the matter at hand, "Have you found a solution for this curse yet?" Severus asked, eyeing the books and parchment.

Albus took the book he had set aside a few moments ago and turned it around so that Severus could read the text. "It was used on prisoners who were tortured before having the curse spelled on them. They were then forced to relive the effects of the curse until most went insane."

Severus leaned forward a bit, "And how long would that take?"

"It varies depending on the person. However, Harry has experienced many more troubling times than any ordinary sixteen year old, which means the effects of this curse are greater."

The last few years at Hogwarts had been a testament to that statement. His son had somehow survived multiple encounters with the Dark Lord that many grown wizards couldn't do and countless threats on his life just these last five years alone, not to mention all those years of abuse he had suffered before at the hands of his despicable relatives. Severus knew that Harry had endured too much in his short sixteen years of life, definitely a lot more than the average teenager.

It was a miracle that Harry had survived thus far and wasn't _more_ damaged.

But was Harry reaching his breaking point? Will it soon be too much for his son to handle?

"So is there a counter curse?" Severus asked. He wanted to bring his son out of this as soon as possible.

"There is a spell, that can pause the flow of the memories, long enough for Harry to break free from the curse." Then Albus' features were solemn, "However, I fear that Harry won't be able to break free of the curse by himself. It might be too powerful for his mind to handle and it will proceed to shut down on itself."

Severus' eyes widened slightly, "Then what do you propose we do Albus?"

If Harry's mind began shutting down, his magical core would follow. Then he would be gone. _I would lose him..._

He resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands, clenching the arms of the chair instead, and shook his head.

 _No, I would_ _not_ _let that happen._

"You will need to go into Harry's mind again, Severus, and help your son truly break this curse." Albus said, a glint of determination shining in those blue eyes.

* * *

Albus had positioned himself at the foot of Harry's bed, his wand at the ready. Poppy was standing nearby, on the opposite side of the bed facing Severus, just in case something went wrong. Severus once again opened Harry's unseeing eyes and looked back at Albus, who gave an affirmative nod, before diving into those emerald pools.

Severus landed in the same Muggle kitchen as last time, but now there seemed to be a gray haze settling within the memory. Voices could be heard echoing off the walls. He quickly recognized one of them to be that fat Uncle and spotted Dursley and a younger Harry near the dining table. His son on the ground, appearing to be rambling apologizes as Dursley towered over him. The loathsome man was yelling something about how ungrateful freaks don't deserve food, to which Severus had to instantly suppress his urge to throttle the man in the memory. There was only one thing he needed to focus on right now, and that was finding his son. The Harry that he knew for the past few days.

Severus tried calling his son's name, but he didn't receive an answer.

He looked around the memory until he noticed something moving that didn't appear to be part of it. There in a corner near the kitchen counter, almost imperceptible, was a figure shrouded by a translucent dark cloud. Severus had to get a closer look to be sure of what he was seeing as the figure almost blended into the background. Once he stood right in front of the figure, Severus recognized with a small amount of relief that it was his son. Though the relief was instantly replaced by concern as he took in Harry's stance. His son didn't seem to notice him at all, still appearing to be lost in this memory with the black cloud surrounding his entire body.

From what Severus could make out of Harry's facial expression, he could see the dullness, almost vacant look in his eyes. His features appeared haunted. It was the face of someone who had seen and been through too much.

"Harry," Severus called as he waved a hand in front of Harry's face, hoping to get his son's attention.

No reaction. It didn't appear as if Harry even saw him.

Suddenly, everything around them seemed to stop. The memory that Harry was entranced in seemed to have frozen and all those voices were silenced. It must be Albus' spell, Severus thought briefly. He noticed the gray cloud surrounding Harry hadn't diminished, only thinned a bit. Now they needed to hurry, as there would be no telling how long Albus could keep this spell up.

Severus once again tried calling Harry's name again.

This time there was a sort of reaction. It seemed to spark something in the boy as Harry's eyes darted back and forth. Finally Harry's eyes landed on him, but he didn't seem to recognize Severus as his son flinched and attempted to back away. Severus reached his hand out slowly and spoke softly as if trying to tame a wild animal, "Harry, it's... your father."

Harry looked at him in confusion with unconcealed fear in his eyes. It cut through Severus' heart seeing his son so terrified.

Did Harry not remember him? Were they too late? Was his son too far gone to be saved?

A moment later those emerald green eyes connected with his black ones, a spark of recognition gleaming within them.

"Sir?" Harry asked surprised, his voice faint, no more than a whisper. Severus had to strain to hear him; it sounded as if there was a glass barrier separating them. He instantly felt a pang at being called _sir_ , and didn't know why. He never had a problem being called that before, as he had always demanded respect from his students.

"Professor Snape?" His son then said, when Severus took too long to respond. Harry sounded like he just couldn't believe that Severus was really there.

"Yes, Harry," Severus replied, in as gentle of a tone as he could manage with the urgency he felt burning within him, "This cloud surrounding you is making you relive your worst memories. I'm here to help you break free of this curse."

When Harry made no move to respond, Severus continued, "We don't have much time, Albus can only hold the spell for so long."

Severus held out a hand, beckoning Harry to reach past the swirling layer of clouds.

For a while, Harry just stared at his hand, making no move to do so.

"Harry?"

His son looked up at him, green eyes wary and still full of terror, "Why would you want to help me? I'm nothing but a _burden_ to everyone and a _no good freak_." Harry said quietly, turning slightly and staring back at the frozen memory.

Severus' heart clenched at hearing the resignation in his son's tone. "You are _none_ of those things. Do _not_ listen to them Harry," he said with a forced calm as he moved into Harry's line of sight. He held out his hand again, "Come, Harry."

"But I cause so much trouble. Just a worthless little freak that nobody wants..." Harry shook his head and whispered, "I don't want to do this anymore."

Severus could almost feel his heart falling out of his chest as his son suddenly became more translucent.

It was as if Harry was slowly fading away. _.._

"No!" Severus shouted, his increasing anxiety over this situation coming out as anger. Harry jumped back a little and stared downward, avoiding eye contact. Severus forced a calmer, yet firm tone, "Harry— _listen to me_ ," when his son brought his gaze back on him again, he continued, "The Dursleys were _wrong_. You are _not_ a freak and _definitely_ _not_ a burden." Severus tried to push away the panic that seemed to almost swallow him whole. He would do his damn hardest to not let Harry slip away. "Harry, I care about you and I certainly... _want_ you as well."

Harry searched Severus' eyes, trying to find any hint of dishonesty in them. Severus was relieved to see a spark of hope lingering in those green eyes.

"Really?" Harry whispered after a while. His son sounded so young and vulnerable, wanting reassurance as if he couldn't quite get himself to trust Severus' words.

"Yes, and I promise you won't be alone anymore," Severus stated with conviction.

Though knowing all that his son had been through, Severus was aware that he would need to reassure Harry multiple times before the reassurances sunk in.

Harry hesitated before slowly reaching forward, and cautiously touched the dark clouds trying to keep him there. Severus held out his hand as well, but as soon as Harry's fingertips made contact with the swirling mass, a shock wave seemed to jolt through Harry, causing his son to gasp and stumble back. It was like the clouds could sense Harry's intentions.

"Harry, you have to push through it," Severus commanded, keeping his hand held out.

"It hurts," Harry gasped, grimacing as he reached out again.

"I know, but you can do it."

This time, Harry managed to keep his hand on the cloud despite the curse's attempts at trying to keep his son in there.

Harry was so close to making it out all the way. Just a little more.

Once his son's hand was in reach, Severus grabbed onto the smaller hand and helped pull the boy the rest of the way through. After giving a mighty tug, Harry was free from the dark cocoon, a bright light emanating from the boy, growing brighter until it banished the gray haze around them and thinning it into a mist until it dissipated all together.

Severus caught Harry when his son fell forward and wrapped his arms tightly around the boy, afraid that Harry might slip away if he loosened his hold. As soon as the boy went limp, Severus was abruptly thrust out of Harry's mind.

He came out stumbling for his balance, feeling all his energy leaving him. The task must have used up the remaining amount of the strength he had left. Severus just let himself fall onto a nearby bed and looked tiredly in the direction of his son.

"It seems to have worked," Severus could hear Albus saying.

"That's splendid news," Poppy replied with a breath of relief. "They can both get some much needed rest now..."

Their voices became muffled as Severus' eyes slid shut of their own accord.

* * *

It wasn't until the next evening that Severus woke, having slept away his exhaustion from that long day. He was surprised he had spelt this long, but considering everything that had happened with that curse on Harry and injuries that Severus had sustained from the brief incident with the Dark Lord, it was no wonder he had been exhausted.

Harry was still asleep when Severus woke and Poppy informed him that his son was in a much needed healing sleep. Harry won't wake for a while as his body heals from all the trauma he went through and the injuries it sustained. At least now Severus had the peace of mind that Harry was sleeping and not suffering from his terrible memories anymore. Severus didn't think he could bear to go through that again, not after the most recent episode.

Now Severus was seated in a comfortable chair he had conjured next to Harry's bedside, determined to stay by his son's side until the boy woke from his much needed slumber. A potions journal was opened on his lap, but it lay forgotten at the moment as Severus couldn't quite focus on it. Instead he sat, watching the soothing rise and fall of his son's chest with every breath that he took.

Harry's features were relaxed now, making his son seem younger than his actual sixteen years. Reaching out, Severus gently brushed the hair from his son's pale forehead and frowned when he saw the red lightning bolt scar. He lightly traced it with one of his long fingers, his thoughts resting upon all the things that his son had suffered through because of it. This was the first scar in the line of many others that came afterwards. Physically and mentally.

Severus gave a sad sigh and gently carded a hand through his son's dark hair.

This was his son.

A boy who had grew up with the cupboard under the stairs as a bedroom, used by his relatives as a despised house elf, starved and beaten, and left to care for himself. One who was also forced to carry the heavy weight of the wizarding world on his much too thin shoulders, a burden that no child should have to bear. But also a boy who treasured the little things in life, showing immense gratitude for even something as basic as a new set of clothes.

Just over a month ago, his son had fought against the Dark Lord and once again survived by the bares of his teeth. Severus wasn't informed on all the details regarding Harry's death defying stunts over the years, but from what he'd heard from Albus, his son seemed to always just _barely_ make it out alive. By sheer dumb luck as Minerva had put it. After all that the boy had been through, Severus realized that it was going to be a long journey ahead. How much more would his son have to endure before this bloody war reached it's conclusion?

Not to mention the consequences of past abuse such as what Harry had endured, and for so long, wouldn't simply vanish without a trace. Though somehow, without anyone that would show him kindness all those years with his relatives, Harry still seemed to maintain Lily's uncommonly kind nature. Albus had been trying to tell him that for years, but Severus' hatred prevented him from noticing and fully acknowledging it.

Of course he wasn't unaware of how he had been treating the boy. All those cutting remarks Severus had spilled onto his son over the last few years came rushing back, bringing a new wave of guilt along with it. He could admit that it was unreasonable and unjustified. It made him sick to his stomach as he thought back to how he contributed to his son's suffering, most likely reinforcing what the Dursley's had constantly led the boy to believe.

He was no better than those blasted Muggles then.

But no more. Severus vowed to make it up to his son. He would try his best to be what his son desperately needs. If he was able to, Severus would have gladly endured his son's pains and burdens in the boy's place. Though as much as he wanted to, he could not. The least Severus could do was help ease them, and that's what he planned on doing. Knowing the difficult times ahead, Severus would make damn certain that Harry would never have to struggle through his life's hardships alone again.

More than anything though, Severus found that he just wanted to see those beautiful green eyes shine brightly again, like they did for Lily. To see his son smiling and being like any ordinary teenager, without a care in the world.

Severus leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

The words he said to Harry echoed in his mind, _I promise you won't be alone anymore._

And he meant it.

* * *

 **A/N:** _I know this chapter took a very long time, with me trying to figure out how to resolve this curse and all. I hope it wasn't a disappointing way to end the curse. After so many rewrites and edits, I figured this was as good as it's going to get. It was difficult for me to write recently, but all your reviews and support kept me going and helped me push through it._

 _Thank you to all who reviewed, favorited, and followed my story!_


	15. Coming Home

Harry woke the next night, his head pounding and limbs feeling much too heavy. His throat felt raw and dry as if he'd been constantly screaming. It also took quite a bit of strength just get his eyes to open. When he finally did, Harry turned his head to observe his surroundings, but it was too dark to make anything out.

Moonlight was streaming through the tall windows, its gentle shimmery glow the only light source in the otherwise dark shadowy room.

 _Where am I? What happened?_

He tried searching his memories, but his mind felt strangely muddled and cluttered.

When Harry tried to sit up, he couldn't keep a soft groan from escaping past his lips as he immediately fell back onto the bed. His whole body was aching as if he had been trampled by a stampede of hippogriffs. Why was that? There was never a time that Harry could remember ever being this sore. Not even after one of Uncle Vernon's thrashings did he ache this much.

Suddenly he heard a movement somewhere to his right, causing him to freeze. His heart began thudding loudly in his chest.

"Harry," a familiar baritone voice said softly as a hand gently landed on his shoulder. Harry couldn't suppress a flinch at the sudden appearance and recoiled away, almost succeeding in falling off the other side of the bed. He gasped at the flare of pain the movement caused. "It's alright, you're safe," the voice murmured soothingly.

He knew that voice. It was as if it unlocked something in his mind and the memories began gradually trickling in.

 _The shopping trip in Diagon Alley... The Death Eater attack... Voldemort torturing his father... Harry trying to stop it... Then watching a spell coming towards him..._

All of a sudden, the room was filled with a warm light, pulling him from the memories. Harry looked around and realized that he was in the Hogwart's infirmary. Relief coursed through him when he recognized his father standing beside his bed, donning his habitual black robes.

"Sir," Harry tried to say, but found that his voice wasn't working. All that came out of his mouth were rasps of air.

He attempted to rise again, but was stopped when Snape put a warm hand on his chest and stilled his efforts. "Don't get up, you are still recovering," his father said, removing his hand once he was sure that Harry won't try to sit up again.

Snape then pulled his wand from his sleeve and gave it a slight wave, conjuring a few pillows. After slowly helping Harry sit up, his father settled the pillows behind him so that Harry was comfortably leaning against them. Once Harry was settled, he locked eyes with his father and saw the noticeable concern and relief mingling within those dark orbs. In his periphery, Harry noticed a black cushioned armchair facing his bed with an open book lying face down on it. Had his father really stayed here the whole time? How long had he been there? In all the times that Harry was forced to stay in the infirmary, there was never anyone that stayed until he woke. It reminded him of the one time a few days ago after he had fainted in his father's study.

Right when Harry was about to ask his father what happened, Madam Pomfrey came bustling out from her office, wand in hand.

"Ah, glad to see you're awake Harry," the mediwitch said once she reached his bedside, looking relieved. She began waving her wand over him, muttering spells under her breath. As soon as she finished she asked, "How are you feeling? Any aches or pains?"

"Sore," Harry croaked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Snape conjured a cup of water and brought it to Harry lips. Harry sipped the cool liquid gratefully, letting it quench his parched mouth and throat. Once he had drank his fill, his father set the cup back on the nightstand and said, "Now, how are you truly feeling?"

"I ache all over and my head is pounding," Harry whispered, grimacing as he put a hand over his eyes. It seemed his headache was getting worse.

"That is to be expected, considering the past events a few days ago," his father commented as he dimmed the lights to a more tolerable level, sensing Harry's discomfort.

Harry frowned as he removed his hand to stare at his father. A few days ago? How long has he been asleep? A million thoughts stumbled over each other in his mind as Harry tried to piece together what happened. They were interrupted when Madam Pomfrey spoke again.

"I can give you a pain reliever for the aches and a headache relief potion." Madam Pomfrey summoned two small vials of potions that came floating from her office and into her outstretched hand.

Harry attempted to grasp it, but found that his arms were just too sore and shaky to be of any use right now. His father had to hold the vials to his lips as Harry downed the slightly unpleasant potions one after the other, grimacing a little from the aftertaste. The pounding in his head seemed to diminish to just an annoying throbbing, but the aches all over his body only seemed to lessen slightly.

"It's not really working, I'm still quite sore," Harry said, glancing between his father and Madam Pomfrey.

"Poppy?" Snape turned to Madam Pomfrey with a raised eyebrow. Pomfrey shook her head and waved her wand over Harry again.

"It is perhaps one of the after effects of the curse," Madam Pomfrey explained with a sigh. "Your body went through some serious trauma. The soreness should wear off in a few days."

He was hit with a curse? Was that what the spell was?

After a few more moments of fussing over him and telling him to get more rest, Madam Pomfrey retired back to her office, leaving the father and son alone again.

Harry cleared his throat a little before he asked, "What happened sir?"

Snape sat back down in the chair and seemed to study him before saying, "What do you remember?"

"I remember our shopping trip in Diagon Alley, then the Death Eater attack and Voldemort was there," Harry recalled. "I think there was a spell that hit me. I don't really remember anything after that."

His father nodded, "The Dark Lord had cast a a rather debilitating memory curse on you."

"Oh," Harry murmured, fiddling with a loose thread on his blanket.

"It forced you to relive your worst memories."

Steadily, it was coming back to him now. He remembered feeling trapped, desperate to escape from the torrent of terrible memories playing in his mind's eye. It was strange how he could feel everything that was happening in the memories.

"Yeah it was like I was stuck in my nightmares... but they were memories," Harry muttered softly. "It was like I was actually there..."

"That was one of the effects of the curse," Snape explained, as he ran a hand down his face. He then whispered, "Thank Merlin, you broke through it."

Harry nodded and proceeded to push those memories out of his mind. He never wanted to think about them again, having to live through them was enough. There was almost a point where he wanted to give up, but somehow he could remember hearing his father's voice, encouraging him to break the curse. Harry wasn't sure if it was just his imagination or if Snape really was there.

Then the scene of his father getting tortured came back to him. "Are you alright sir?" Harry asked as he looked closely at the man, who appeared to be fine but he had to make sure anyway. "Were you badly injured?" He remembered how his father was on the ground with a giant gash on his leg.

Snape seemed a bit surprised at Harry's inquiry before dismissing his concern, "I am fine. It was nothing more serious than what Madam Pomfrey is capable of healing."

Harry nodded, glad that his father didn't get hurt too badly. Though at the time, it definitely didn't seem that way and Harry shuddered slightly at the remembered scene.

His father's features then became stern as he rose and came to stand next to Harry's bed. "Harry, allow me make this as clear as possible." Snape continued when Harry made eye contact with him, " _Never_ , attempt something so reckless and foolish again. What were you thinking challenging the Dark Lord like that?"

Harry inwardly winced at his father's rebuke and averted his gaze to his hands on his lap. _I guess I wasn't thinking._ The only thing on his mind was that he needed to stop his father from being tortured. He just didn't want anyone else to be hurt because of him. His own safety never even crossed his mind.

"You were being tortured," Harry said quietly, "and Voldemort was after me anyway."

"I am well aware. However, I was handling the situation."

"But—" Harry began, but was cut off.

"No, do you have any idea how dangerous that was? The Dark Lord could have easily finished you, not to mention that curse. Do you not have any self preservation at all? Always rushing headlong into danger without a second thought, you need to learn to control your impulsive Gryffindor tendencies." Snape admonished in a hard tone, anger seeming to radiate off of him.

 _Nothing but trouble... Danger to everyone..._

Harry hung his head and didn't dare to look up. He gave a slight nod of his head before whispering, "I'm sorry for causing so much trouble sir."

A moment later, Harry heard his father sigh as he felt a slight dip on the side of his bed. Then he felt thin fingers gently cup his chin. A slight pressure from those fingers guided Harry's face up so that his green eyes met his father's obsidian ones. Harry hesitantly met his gaze, anticipating anger in those dark eyes, but instead he saw a hint of sorrow in them.

"Harry, you do _not_ cause trouble," Snape said firmly, then in a more softer tone, "I was just... frightened. However noble your intentions were, it is not something I wish to go through again. "

The image of his father's usually fathomless dark eyes containing an uncommon amount of fear flashed into his mind.

His father had been afraid— _for him?_

It was similar to the concern and fear that parents would show when one of their kids were in danger. Harry had seen it plenty of times, but he never thought he would have someone that did the same for him. He'd never had anyone that cared whether he got hurt or not. There was a brief moment of warmth flooding within his chest. It felt good knowing someone was concerned for him, but Harry also couldn't help feeling guilty for worrying the man.

"I could have lost you," his father whispered, almost to himself as he removed his hand from Harry's chin.

Harry swallowed audibly, feeling a rather large lump forming in his throat.

Even though he had just woken up not very long ago, Harry felt slightly drained already. He let out a shaky breath, his eyelids suddenly feeling much too heavy.

"Rest now Harry," Snape said as he lightly patted Harry's leg. Then he swiftly stood up and began removing the pillows from behind Harry.

Harry nodded, allowing his father to slowly lower him back down again. "Thank you for staying," he mumbled softly. The word _Dad_ was on the tip of his tongue but he just couldn't say it, having never said the word to anyone before and not sure how it would be received.

He didn't hear his father's response as Snape pulled the blanket up to his chin and tucked it around him. As Harry let his eyes fall shut, he felt a thin hand gently brushing through his hair. The soothing motion was helping him drift further into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

The next day when Harry woke up, the first thing he noticed was that his father wasn't there anymore. Instead, seated in a colorful plush armchair was Professor Dumbledore in equally colorful robes with shooting stars flying around on the fabric.

"Good morning Harry. So good to see you awake," Dumbledore greeted with his grandfatherly smile.

"Good morning Professor," Harry replied politely, his voice still a bit rough. He glanced around the room and asked, "Where's my— uh, where's Professor Snape?"

There was a twinkle in the headmaster's blue eyes as he gazed at Harry through his half moon spectacles, "Your father said he had something to take care of. He will be back shortly."

Harry nodded as he tested out his limbs. They didn't ache as much as yesterday, but it was still slightly painful to move. He slowly propped himself up with his elbows and leaned against the headboard.

"Why was Voldemort at Diagon Alley sir?" Harry asked, once he got comfortable. Now that Dumbledore was here, Harry wanted some answers.

"Ah, I am not sure of his motivations, however, there were other notable places that Voldemort ordered his Death Eaters to raid. There were attacks simultaneously occurring around England," Dumbledore explained, not seeming to mind the change in subject.

"He wanted to know the Prophecy," Harry stated. "I tried dueling him to stall him until you arrived."

"Yes, an admirable job if I do say so myself, however not the most wise idea."

"Was anyone hurt?" Harry asked warily, remembering when he helped Fred and George during the attack. George had hurt his arm and he wondered if anyone else got hurt as well.

"There were a few that had to make a visit to St. Mungos, but nothing too serious. The Aurors did manage to capture a few of the Death Eaters."

"Good," Harry replied, glad that at least some of them were caught.

"Harry, I already spoke to Severus about giving you extra defense lessons," said Dumbledore. "It would be wise to be prepared. Now I am aware that the Occlumency lessons last year were not the most effective."

Harry nodded, remembering those terrible lessons. He had always come out of those lessons with a pounding headache, having had his mind constantly breached.

"However, I am sure that Severus is willing to be more... ah, patient this time," Dumbledore finished with a smile on his aged face, the twinkle present in his eyes.

It was at that moment that his father decided to appear from the Floo, the man's usual black robes still billowing behind him.

"Headmaster," Snape greeted curtly before turning his gaze towards Harry.

"Good morning Severus," Dumbledore replied, as he gracefully stood up, "I think I will leave you two be." With that, they watched as the headmaster walked out of the infirmary.

"How are you feeling?" his father asked when he arrived beside Harry's bed.

"Fine sir," Harry replied.

His father raised an eyebrow, "Does your body still ache?"

"Um, not as much as yesterday."

Snape nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer, "Very well. Are you hungry? Have you had breakfast yet?"

"No sir," Harry answered, shaking his head slightly.

His father ordered breakfast from the house elves and they had ate together in a relatively comfortable silence.

After finishing breakfast, Harry asked, "Do you know when I can leave?"

"I believe Poppy said you may leave tomorrow morning," his father replied, "Just until the curse's side effects have mostly worn off."

So for the rest of the day, Harry stayed in bed. He had never liked staying in the hospital wing for too long. Between the boredom and Madam Pomfrey's incessant fussing, Harry was always more than ready to get out. Though it wasn't lost on Harry that this time, his father had stayed with him the whole time. Snape had even brought him some books from the library at Prince Manor to help occupy his time and Harry found that this stay wasn't so bad. It was a lot more pleasant than the many other times he had to stay here.

The next day, Harry could finally leave.

"This is for the remaining scars, it should be applied every night until they disappear," Madam Pomfrey instructed as she handed Snape a jar of salve.

"I know Poppy," his father nodded, taking the jar and slipping it into his robe pocket.

After receiving strict instructions to get a lot of rest and refrain from rigorous exercise, Madam Pomfrey finally allowed Harry to leave.

"Shall we return home?" Snape asked, lightly resting a hand on Harry's shoulder.

 _Home._ Harry still hadn't considered it home yet, but maybe he would someday. It was still mind boggling to think that he actually had a place to call home, besides Hogwarts.

"Yes sir," Harry turned to look at his father and nodded.

Snape guided him to the Floo and kept his hand resting on Harry's shoulder as they stepped into the green flames.

On the other side, once they arrived back at Prince Manor, it appeared that Kieran and his mother were waiting for them. As soon as the Floo had spat them out into his father's study, Kieran launched himself at Snape. Harry was a little surprised to see that and ended up turning his head away when he noticed Kieran smirking at him. The embrace also seemed to take his father by surprise as well, because the man had stiffened and only patted Kieran's back instead of hugging him back.

"What are you two doing here?" Snape asked as he awkwardly patted Kieran's back. After a quick moment, he pulled back and turned to Kieran's mother, "I thought he was staying with you for the weekend."

"Well Kieran had wanted to come back earlier to stay with you, now that you are back," Kieran's mother replied.

"Yeah Dad, you're finally back," Kieran was grinning at his father.

Snape gave a slight sigh. "Very well, if you will excuse us, I am going to escort Harry to his room." With that, his father resettled his hand on Harry's shoulder and steered him out of his study.

 _Why was he escorting me to my room?_ Harry wondered.

He gave the man a confused look, but his father ignored it and just continued moving forward. Deciding to not question it, Harry just went along with it. It felt nice to be walking beside his father rather than having to practically jog to keep up with the man's brisk strides.

Suddenly his father stopped and guided him into one of the fairly large rooms of the manor.

"Sir?" he turned a questioning look at Snape. Why did his father take him here? They haven't reached his room yet.

"This is your new room, Harry," his father announced.

Harry stared at the man with slightly wide eyes.

 _What? This was his new—_

He wondered if he had heard correctly.

His father was giving him _this_ room?

"Really?" Harry breathed, barely able to process it, "This is really my room now?"

Snape inclined his head, "Yes, I instructed the house elves to move your possessions from that far away room to this one."

"You didn't have to sir," Harry said, feeling a bit overwhelmed. "The other room was fine."

His father shook his head, "This room is closer to mine and Kieran's. I do not want you on the other end of the manor while you are recovering."

He couldn't believe it. Harry looked around the elegantly decorated room in awe and said, "It's a very nice room."

There was warm sunlight streaming in from the wide windows overlooking the extensive backyard and garden with brown curtains framing them. Green and beige colored throw pillows and cushions were lining the window alcoves. Set in one corner of the room was a small table between a sofa and two armchairs, facing an unlit fireplace. A fairly sizable bookshelf was set in another corner near a desk on which Harry realized that his school books were already stacked neatly on top of.

The large four poster bed on the other side of the room was covered in a warm beige comforter with green and brown pillows that matched the ones on the window alcoves. Harry noticed that his trunk was already placed at the foot of the bed. There were also nightstands on either side of the bed while a large wardrobe filled the space at the other corner. Next to the wardrobe was a door that Harry presumed led to the bathroom. It was a huge upgrade from the old room he had.

It was definitely bigger than any room he'd ever had. Or ever dreamed of having.

"You will find that I have also returned your possessions that I confiscated a few days ago. They are also now in your trunk," his father said, gesturing at his trunk.

Harry knelt in front of it and gave a slight smile when he opened it, finding the invisibility cloak and firebolt exactly where it belonged. He couldn't help running his fingers once through the silky material.

Closing his trunk, Harry stood back up and continued to look around the room as if he still couldn't believe that this room was now his. It was too good to be true. His father had done all of this for him? He had been perfectly fine with the other room, but this one blew that room out of the water. After all, his father had taken him to Diagon Alley and bought him new school supplies, even purchasing a whole new wardrobe for him that really cost a small fortune. Harry had an inexplicable urge to hug the man, but pushed it down, knowing that Snape surely wouldn't like that.

Instead, Harry grinned as he turned towards the man and said sincerely, "It's brilliant sir. Thank you."

Snape gave a slight upturn of his lips in return. Harry guessed that's the closest thing to a smile he was going to get. He would have missed it if he wasn't watching close enough. "No need to thank me. It should have been your's when you first arrived," his father replied as he waved a hand dismissively.

"You should get some rest. Dinner will be ready at six." With that, Snape left Harry to himself.

A half hour later, Harry was sitting on the window alcove, basking in the warmth of the sunlight gently streaming in from the broad windows. He had explored the room some more before settling down. Now he was thinking of all that had happened recently. It was a lot to take in and he still couldn't believe that it was real. Maybe it was just some twisted dream his mind had conjured up and he would wake up any day now. Whatever it was, Harry was going to make the most of it. Nothing lasted forever and that seemed to hold especially true for Harry.

There was a light tapping that interrupted Harry's thoughts.

He turned his head and was overjoyed to see his snowy owl pecking on the glass. "Hedwig!" Harry hurriedly opened the window and let Hedwig in, who was carrying two letters and a small package tied to her leg. Once she was inside, Hedwig flew over to his desk and landed, holding her leg out for Harry to untie those items. Harry did so, releasing Hedwig of her burden and gently petted his familiar.

He then turned his attention to the two letters. One had his name written in Ron's messy scrawl while the other was in Hermione's neat loopy handwriting.

Harry bit his lip nervously as he opened Ron's letter first.

What would they think of him being Snape's son? Do they already know?

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Bloody hell mate, Dumbledore came by and told us about the attack at Diagon Alley. Fred and George said they saw you and that you helped them against four Death Eaters too. How did you just so happen to be in Diagon Alley when he attacked? Do you reckon he knew you were there? Fred and George also said you looked different somehow. They said you reminded them of someone._ _Anyways, Dumbledore said you were fine but he wouldn't tell us where you're staying. Said something about it not being his information to tell and that you should be the one to tell us._ _What is it mate? Does it have anything to do with why you suddenly look different?_

 _Hermione's been staying with us and was going mad about our OWL results. She was a nervous wreck waiting for them to arrive. Have you gotten yours yet? No need to tell you what Hermione got of course. It was pretty obvious. I only failed in Divination and History of Magic, but who really cares about those subjects right?_

 _So where are you Harry? At least you're not staying with the Dursley's anymore eh?_

 _I really hope you can visit soon._

 _Ron_

So his friends didn't know yet. Dumbledore didn't tell them. He guessed that was a good thing because he would need to tell them, but he wasn't looking forward to seeing their reactions.

Setting Ron's letter down, he opened Hermione's letter next.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _I heard about the attack and I'm so glad you're alright._ _Ron was speculating on where you are after Dumbledore visited to inform us about what happened in Diagon Alley. Quite frankly I just hope that wherever you are right now, you are safe. I hope it's at least better than the Dursley's, though most likely, anywhere would be better than the Dursley's._

 _After everything that happened at the end of fifth year, I hope you're doing alright. I know Sirius meant a lot to you and I've been worried about how you were handling it. With this letter, I sent a journal for you to write down your thoughts, if anything is bothering you and you don't have anyone to talk to. It's not healthy to keep everything bottled in Harry. I also charmed it so that it can't be read by anyone else unless you wanted them to. It would appear as school notes for anyone who tries to read it._

 _Hope to see you soon,_

 _Hermione_

Harry took the small package and unwrapped it, revealing a red journal with his initials engraved at the bottom right corner. He flipped through it once then set it down on his desk. He didn't know if he would ever use it, but he would still thank Hermione for it later. Looking at the time, he realized that it was almost time for dinner. He decided to start heading down now and planned to write back to his friends afterwards.

As he got closer to his father's study, Harry could make out two people arguing through the slightly ajar door. One of the voices was distinctly his father's and the other had to be Kieran's mother. Snape sounded angry and Harry wondered what they were discussing about. Curiosity getting the better of him, Harry quietly leaned against the wall next to the door and listened.

* * *

 **A/N:** _Sorry for the delay everyone, I've been busy lately and now that classes have started back up again, I'm busier than ever. So much to do, so little time. I wanted to get this chapter out before my two exams next week._

 _I have the story outlined in detail and I'm pretty excited for the upcoming chapters. The next chapters will hopefully come sooner than this one, it just depends on how much free time I get._

 _Anyways, I really need to get back to studying. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!_


	16. Force of Habit

After getting Harry settled in his new room, Severus had been in his study, hoping to get reorganized after the past few days. He had come to the realization that he was behind in the work that needed to be done. Usually by this time during the summer, he would have already finished his lesson plans for the coming school year and would be brewing the potions needed to replenish the infirmary's stock. Though, granted, this year was a lot different than last year.

He had only just begun working when Kieran came in, wanting Severus to go flying with him. He had declined Kieran's request and told the boy that he was free to fly by himself as long as he stayed within the wards. It was at that moment when the boy started his incessant whining, claiming that it wasn't any fun to fly by himself and that it had been a while since they had went flying together. The childish behavior only served to grate on his nerves. With a pointed glare, Severus threatened to confiscate his broom and ground him to his room if he didn't cease his insufferable attitude. That seemed to have some impact on Kieran, but the boy had still crossed his arms and stood there defiantly for a while until he seemed to realize that Severus wasn't going to budge. With some indistinct mumbling under his breath, Kieran petulantly stomped out of Severus' study.

It wasn't long after Kieran left that Clarice had come in, taking a seat in the chair facing his desk.

Severus groaned inwardly, _now what?_

This was definitely _not_ how he had envisioned spending his afternoon.

He didn't look up from his work until she shifted in her seat and cleared her throat.

"Do you need something, Clarice?" Severus asked after giving a slightly irritated sigh.

"Kieran seemed upset," Clarice began, "said he wanted to go flying with you."

"He did," Severus replied, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair, "but I am quite busy at the moment and Kieran needs to realize that throwing an insolent temper tantrum will not allow him to get what he wants."

"He just wants to spend time with his father, Severus," Clarice sighed. "You realize you have been gone for the past couple of days."

"Yes I know, and at the moment, I am behind on my work as it is, so if you don't mind..." Severus said, returning to the piece of parchment in front of him and hoping she'd take the hint.

Somehow, a moment later, Clarice had stood and came to stand behind him. Her thin hands landed on his shoulders, causing Severus to stiffen at the sudden contact. The woman then began kneading his tense shoulders. "Look how stiff you are Severus," Clarice commented, continuing her ministrations. "It seems ever since that boy arrived, you have been so tense."

"I can't believe, after all that you have been through, you are still allowing the boy to stay in your home."

 _Not this again,_ Severus gritted his teeth. "Of course I would let him stay. In case you have forgotten, he is also my son," Severus stated, jerking away from her reach and standing up.

Clarice crossed her arms, "Do you not care about our safety? For Kieran— _our son's_ — safety?"

"Course I do," Severus bit out, "And do not start this— we are not having this conversation again."

"I wasn't finished speaking with you last time before you abruptly left."

"That was because there were more important matters that needed my attention."

"Oh, so Kieran's not as important as _him_."

"I never said that— do not put words into my mouth," Severus snarled, clutching the back of the chair that Clarice had vacated a bit too tightly.

"But you implied it. You are acting like everyone else now—"

"I had already made sure Kieran was fine before I left, considering he wasn't the one suffering from a curse in the hospital wing," Severus interrupted in a dangerously low tone.

There was something that changed in Clarice's eyes, but Severus couldn't distinguish anything before the look was gone a second later. The irritating woman made a disparaging noise and rolled her eyes, "Honestly Severus, the boy is too much trouble for what he's worth. I don't understand why everyone seems to think he's capable of defeating You-Know-Who."

Severus pinched the bridge of his noise, feeling a headache beginning to form between his eyes. "I do not care how _dangerous_ you think Harry is, he is still my son, and therefore, will always have a home with me."

"Don't you think he's putting too much strain on your life?" Clarice asked, blue eyes flashing slightly and voice rising. "You told me before how Dumbledore forced you to watch after him, even with all the mischief he got up to over the years. You deserve a break, after so many years of spying. Maybe it's best if you let Dumbledore handle the boy and the war."

"No, I have been a part of this war from the beginning and I intend on seeing it through to the end," Severus stated adamantly. It wasn't Harry's fault that he was thrust into this war as a baby and now had to carry the weight of the wizarding world on his shoulders. A burden much too heavy for a any person to bear let alone a child, especially a child who had been through so much already before he even entered Hogwarts. His son had been having to deal with the burden of this war for much too long already, and Severus wasn't about to let him face anymore of it alone.

There was a brief moment of silence before Clarice spoke again, "Lily's gone Severus, perhaps it's about time you moved on with your life."

Severus sent her a smoldering glare, hands clenching into fists. "Not until my son, _mine and Lily's_ , is out of harms way." He was nearing the end of his tolerance for the insufferable woman.

"You have a family now Severus! How would Kieran feel if something happened to you?" Clarice said, gesturing wildly.

"Enough!" Severus snapped harshly, slamming his palms on his desk. He noticed Clarice flinch almost imperceptibly and take a small step back. "If you feel so _unsafe_ here, you are more than welcome to _leave_. Harry is _staying_ , whether you like it or not."

Clarice looked surprised for a moment. She opened her mouth to say something, but then snapped it shut, seeming to decide against it. Instead, she sighed and gave a curt nod at Severus' words.

He gave her a pointed look, "In case you have forgotten, this is _my_ home. You will do well to remember that."

Glancing at the clock on his mantelpiece, Severus realized it was time for dinner. He swept out of his study without a backwards glance and headed towards the dining room.

Dinner was a rather tense affair, though that didn't deter Kieran from trying to hold conversations with Severus. The boy apparently wasn't aware of the tension between his parents as he continued to babble on about things that he did while Severus had been gone. Severus ended up only half listening to it all. He just nodded here and there, but his focus was mainly on Harry.

It didn't escape Severus' notice that Harry seemed rather subdued and appeared to be lost in thought most of the time. The boy was back to picking at his food with a frown on his face, taking a few bites here and there but not really appearing as if he had any appetite.

Maybe he was tired? He was still recovering after all.

Thinking back to earlier, Severus remembered Harry's reaction to his new room. It wasn't his intention to spoil the boy, but then again, maybe Harry deserved to be spoiled for once. The way his son's eye's lit up and the smile that could brighten an entire room was well worth it. He was glad that Harry liked his new room and hoped to see that expression more often from now on.

Looking at the boy now, Severus could see that Harry was troubled by something. How did the boy go from seeming content to depressed in the matter of an hour? What had happened in that time? As Severus studied his son, he wondered why there were brief moments where Harry would glance back and forth between him and Clarice before he hastily looked back down at his own plate. Determined to understand this quick change in demeanor, Severus resolved to speak to the boy later, hoping Harry would tell him what was on his mind.

"May I be excused, sir?" Harry asked softly, putting his fork down. "I don't think I can eat anymore."

"Yes, you may, after you drink the rest of your pumpkin juice," Severus replied, gesturing at the goblet. He had instructed the house elves to put the nutrient potion in the pumpkin juice as Harry needed all the nutrients he could get. The boy was far too thin.

Harry obeyed, downing the rest of the drink and then leaving the room quietly.

* * *

A few hours later, Harry was laying on his bed, staring up at the top of his four poster bed. The conversation between his father and Kieran's mother was still playing through his mind. His heart had warmed at hearing his father defending him, but he also couldn't help seeing the truth in her statements. At least now he could understand why the woman seemed to hate him so much. It was a known fact how dangerous he was to everyone around him, just look at all the people that were hurt because of him. Harry was a walking magnet for trouble and he couldn't blame them for not wanting him around.

He didn't want to cause his father more trouble than he had already, seeing as the man had done more for him than anyone else ever did. His father had bought him new clothes and new school supplies, even giving him a huge new room on top of that. All of which Snape didn't need to do, but he still did.

 _I don't deserve it..._

All Harry had done was cause more trouble for the man.

And perhaps Snape did want a family with Kieran's mother— was he in the way of that? It did seem to Harry as if they fancied each other during the trip to Diagon Alley. Was Harry creating a divide between them? He remembered how much the three looked like a family.

 _And I'm just the burden again..._

Harry sighed and shook his head, trying to divert his train of thought from the depressing track it was heading down.

Looking toward his desk at the letters from his friends, Harry remembered that he still needed to respond to them. He got up off the bed and took a seat at his desk, picking up his quill and staring down at the parchment. He wasn't sure how to tell them, but mostly he was dreading their reaction. Hermione, Harry could see being understanding, but Ron can be quite stubborn sometimes. The row between them in fourth year came back to him and Harry remembered how long that lasted. Would Ron even want to be his friend still after Harry tells him that he was _Snape's_ son?

"Hey Potter—"

There was a startled yelp that caused Harry to turn his head just in time to see Kieran fall back and land unceremoniously on his backside with a surprised _oof_.

Harry furrowed his brow. _What happened?_

Kieran hastily got back up and put a hand up, trying to feel what had blocked his way into Harry's room.

It was as if an invisible wall was placed in his doorway, and looking closely, Harry could make out what appeared to be a sort of faint shimmery, translucent curtain. It was almost unnoticeable if he didn't look hard enough. Kieran soon put both hands up and was pounding against it, hoping it would give way and let him in.

"What the—?"

"Kieran, what are you doing?"

Kieran immediately stopped his pounding and looked toward the sound of their father's distinct voice coming down the hall.

"Dad, why can't I get into Potter's room?" Kieran lowered his hand and turned towards Snape.

His father raised an eyebrow at Kieran, then proceeded to walk straight into Harry's room, unaffected by the barrier that was preventing Kieran from doing the same. Kieran tried following but was still unable to enter.

"It's warded," Snape said simply, smirking at Kieran's confused expression.

"Why?"

"Well, now that your rooms are quite close to each other. I do not want you bothering Harry and removing any peace there is to be had in this manor." Harry was glad that his father implemented this to keep Kieran out, knowing that Kieran would visit him often and just to mess with Harry whenever he could. He definitely didn't want to have to deal with _that_ everyday.

Kieran snorted. "I don't bother him," he said indignantly, crossing his arms.

"Really?" Snape drawled, "Then what is your reason for wanting to enter Harry's room now?"

"I just wanted to see his new room," Kieran said innocently.

"You have a perfectly adequate view from the hallway," his father said dryly.

"Dad," Kieran whined, pounding on the wards again.

Snape's lips thinned before he said in a stern tone, "Kieran, it is getting late, I suggest you return to your own room."

"But—"

"Go," his father ordered.

"Fine," Kieran exhaled as he stormed off down the hall.

Once they could hear no more from Kieran, his father turned his attention to Harry.

"Are you alright?" Snape asked, making his way toward him, his father's dark eyes studying him.

Harry just nodded, a bit uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

"You didn't eat much of your dinner," his father stated.

"I wasn't really hungry," Harry shrugged.

"Are you feeling ill?" his father asked as he slowly put a warm hand against Harry's forehead. There was a hint of concern showing on his father's features.

"I'm fine," Harry said, surprised by the gesture.

His father nodded, then extracted a jar of purple salve from one of his robe pockets. Harry instantly recognized it as the one that Madam Pomfrey had given him this morning.

"Take your shirt off and lay on your stomach. I need to spread this salve on the scars on your back."

Harry did as he was told, shivering slightly as he pulled his shirt over his head. He laid down on his bed and rested his head on his folded arms, turning his head so that he could still see glimpses of his father while he applied the salve.

"The scars are healing nicely," Snape muttered from above him, his fingers rubbing the salve gently onto his back. He could feel a cold tingly sensation from where the salve was doing its magic.

Once his father had finished applying the salve, Harry pulled his shirt back on and sat on his bed.

Snape took a seat in Harry's desk chair. "Now, I'm sure Professor Dumbledore has informed you about the extra defense lessons you will have with me, however, considering you still need to recover and regain some strength before you can start using your magic, I suggest we begin your potions lessons in the meantime."

"Alright sir," Harry replied.

He'd almost forgotten about those lessons and couldn't help feeling a bit anxious about them. The last time Harry had a lesson with the man, Snape had _hated_ him. He wasn't sure what it was going to be like now in these private, one on one lessons. Harry was still uncertain about his potion brewing abilities, but after studying and reading more about the subject this summer, he found his interest in it had definitely increased from before. At least Harry didn't have to worry about someone chucking things into his cauldron when his back was turned here.

"Something is troubling you," his father said suddenly, breaking Harry out of his thoughts and catching him off guard. "What is it, Harry?"

"Uh— nothing, I'm fine," said Harry, uncomfortably shifting a bit, feeling his father's dark eyes studying him. He just didn't think it was a good idea to tell Snape that he'd _eavesdropped_ on their private conversation. His other worries were nothing that he couldn't handle himself.

Snape didn't look convinced, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded.

His father gave a slight sigh before saying, "Very well. Do you need some Dreamless Sleep tonight?"

"I think I'll be okay without it sir," Harry said, sounding more sure than he felt.

Snape gave him a long look before nodding, "Do not hesitate to come to me if you need anything, Harry." His father then stood and pushed the chair back into place.

"Yes, sir," Harry said, giving the tiniest of smiles. He couldn't really describe the feelings running through him at the moment. It was strange... He'd never really had anyone who noticed if something was bothering him and actually cared enough to ask, besides Ron and Hermione.

* * *

The next morning after breakfast, Kieran was glaring at him, as usual.

"It's not fair!" Kieran huffed. "Why can't I join in the potion lesson too?"

"I have already told you. The potion we are brewing today is too advanced for your skill level," his father said.

"But you know I'm good at potions!"

"It's a potion I will teach you when become a fifth year student."

"I can handle it now!"

"That's enough, Kieran," said Snape in a low tone. "We are through discussing this. I suggest you start your summer assignments, and I better not find you lazying about."

Snape then turned to Harry, "Come along, Harry."

Kieran didn't say anymore, aiming a very Snape-like scowl at Harry as Harry followed his father out of the room.

Once they arrived in Snape's potions lab, Harry could feel his nerves increase. He wanted to do well and show his father that he could successfully brew a potion, something which he'd never had the chance to do in the man's potions classes.

Glancing at all the tools and ingredients laid out on the tabletop, Harry realized they were going to brew calming draughts today.

"Now, Harry, this lesson we will be brewing calming draughts," his father said, slipping easily into his professor voice. "I believe you are already familiar with this brew as it was covered in fifth year."

At Harry's nod, Snape continued, "Can you tell me the three main ingredients of this potion?"

"Um, Valerian roots, passionflower sprigs and... three drops of honeywater," Harry answered, remembering that he had read more about this potion a few days ago.

His father nodded his head, "Correct."

After a few rounds of questions about the properties of the ingredients, his father let him begin the potion. Harry noticed that beside him, his father seemed to be brewing the same potion, but in a larger quantity as he had three cauldrons set in front of him. Snape was alternating between the three and brewing in all of them simultaneously. Harry didn't know how the man could handle three at once, when he could barely handle one at a time.

"Harry," Snape stopped him as he was beginning to dice the Valerian roots, causing Harry to freeze and wait for the man to start criticizing him like he often did in class, but then his father surprised him by correcting him patiently. "In order for the potion to maintain maximal potency, the ingredients must be prepared properly. Dice the root into equally sized pieces," his father explained. Then Snape demonstrated his technique, his father's movements smooth and precise as he chopped up the root.

"Okay, so like this?" Harry tried copying Snape's technique and found that the way his father was moving the knife did make it easier.

"Precisely," Snape said, a hint of a smile appearing on his features.

It still came as quite a shock to Harry that Snape was being this patient with him. He realized that his father was very knowledgeable and passionate about this subject and that he could be a good teacher if he didn't snark at the students all the time. But Harry could understand the strictness to which Snape runs his class as a little mistake made by a careless student could cause an explosion and could lead to deadly consequences. As the lesson went on, the tension that Harry had felt in him, along with his anxiousness, seemed to lessen considerably as he came to realize that Snape wasn't going to suddenly belittle him like the man had done in class so many times before.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he failed to notice he skipped an important step. As he was about to drop the Mugwort into his cauldron, a sharp voice and a hand that Harry saw coming towards him in his peripheral vision caused him to flinch back violently.

And suddenly, the potion's lab had vanished, replaced by the Dursley's pristine Muggle kitchen and Uncle Vernon's loud bantering ringing in his ears. The large man was hovering over him menacingly, holding up a leather belt in his meaty hand about to strike it's target. Harry shrunk back and put his arms up in an attempt to shield himself, waiting for the inevitable blow, but it never came. Shaking his head, Harry put his arms down slowly. The room had reverted back to the potions lab and Harry belated realized that he had fallen down onto the floor. He glanced up and saw his father with his hand still up, his expression a mixture between shock and sadness.

"I would _never_ hit you," his father said softly, lowering his hand slowly. Harry hastily stood back up, a bit shakily and righted his fallen stool.

"Sorry, it was a reflex," Harry said lamely, looking away and flushing a bit. "I know you would never hurt me," he added quietly. He didn't know why he reacted like that. Of course he knew that his father would never hurt him.

He heard his father give a slight sigh and muttered something that sounded like _despicable muggles_ , before the man composed himself and gestured to Harry's cauldron. "Do you realize that, had you added the Mugwort before the Valerian roots, the Mugwort would have caused a rather large chemical reaction without the Valerian to neutralize it," Snape lectured sternly.

"Sorry sir, I got distracted," Harry said frowning, not looking at his father. Surely there wasn't any chance that Snape was going to let him into his N.E.W.T class now.

A hand landed lightly on his shoulder a moment later, causing Harry to glance up hesitantly. "Well, no harm done," Snape said calmly, surprising him. "Perhaps you should pay more attention to what you are doing."

Harry almost gaped at the man. Why was Snape not telling him off for being so careless? Why was the man being so calm when Harry had almost blown up his cauldron and would have wasted expensive potions ingredients?

"Continue with your potion," his father instructed, returning back to his own station.

Harry nodded, turning back to his cauldron. He attempted to push that mishap out of his mind and sought to not let his thoughts wander this time.

The rest of the lesson finished smoothly and once Harry had completed his potion, he watched nervously, biting his lip and absently fidgeting with a loose thread on his trousers, as his father took a stirrer and closely examined the concoction. He was feeling a bit more confident in his creation than he usually did in potions classes, but Harry knew that Snape was very difficult to please. Harry thought his potion _looked_ to be the right color... but did it have the right consistency... or what about the—

His father set the stirrer down and turned to look at him. "Well done, Harry," Snape said, a rare pleased look crossing his father's features. "Your potion is of nearly perfect quality."

It took a while for his father's words to fully register in his mind, but when they finally did, Harry released the breath he didn't even know he was holding as an unfamiliar warmth flooded into his chest.

He couldn't help the bright smile that appeared on his face as he said, "Thank you, sir."

* * *

Over the next few days, Harry soon became used to the routine of brewing with his father in the mornings and found that it was a rather calming and relaxing activity. They had soon moved on to more advanced potions that he would be brewing in his sixth year, and Snape began allowing Harry to help him brew potions for the infirmary. It was nice spending time with his father, even if they were just brewing together in silence. The other parts of the day, Harry would spend it in his room, away from whatever Kieran and his mother were doing.

Kieran ignored him most of the time which Harry was grateful for, thanks to the wards his father put up to keep him out of his room. There were moments where Kieran tried provoking him, but Harry looked the other way, not rising to his bait. Sometimes from his window, he would see Snape and Kieran flying outside together with Kieran's mother watching from the ground. Harry wasn't permitted to fly until he had recovered enough and gained some weight first, but still, there was a sense of longing that would sweep through him before he would look away and refocus on the book in front of him.

Snape had given him some interesting books from the vast library and Harry couldn't help staying up later than usual, reading them. If Hermione were here, she would be quite surprised to see how much Harry had been studying this summer and how much he had learned. After many hours spent considering how to answer his friend's letters, Harry had finally written back. He had made sure to assure them that he was fine and broke the news to them. Now he was just waiting for their response, a bit anxiously.

His nightmares have also returned, but they weren't that bad. He could usually wake himself up before he started screaming and waking the whole manor up. The days would leave him exhausted, but his mind wouldn't grant him the rest his body needed. He didn't want to ask Snape for dreamless sleep as he knew that he couldn't rely on the potion every night. It was just something he would have to manage himself, like he'd always had. It was nothing to bother his father about.

One night though, Harry woke up with a strangled gasp, breathing heavily and trembling uncontrollably. The nightmare was still vivid in his mind as he tried taking some deep breaths in an attempt to keep his rapidly pounding heart from bursting out of his chest. Getting out of bed slowly, Harry realized that he was covered in a cold sweat and went to go change. He definitely wasn't planning on going back to sleep anytime soon, even though it was only two in the morning.

Wanting to grab a few more books from the library to get his mind off the nightmare, Harry made his way quietly through the manor. As he was tiptoeing past his father's bedroom, Harry had a strange urge to wake the man up and tell him about his nightmare. He didn't know where that urge suddenly came from, and before he knew it, his hand was already in a fist, an inch away from his father's door...

Right as he was about to knock, Harry froze.

 _What am I doing?_

It was just another silly nightmare...

Surely Snape wouldn't appreciate being woken up in the middle of the night all because Harry had a stupid nightmare.

Shaking his head, Harry hastily backed away from the door and continued silently on his way to the library.


	17. Not As Strong As We Pretend

_This cannot go on any longer_ , Severus decided, glancing at the dark haired, green eyed boy brewing beside him.

It had been nearly two weeks since that Diagon Alley incident and Harry was much too quiet and reserved, always keeping to himself in his room after his potions lesson, and only venturing out for meals. It was as though his son was doing his best to be invisible, which greatly disturbed Severus to think that Harry felt the need to stay hidden in his room all day. Every time Severus checked up on Harry, his son would reply with the same short, infuriating response: _I'm fine._ It was rather frustrating, but that was stemming from his concern for the boy. He certainly didn't want to force Harry to speak about his problems when he wasn't ready, but Severus had let this go on for too long.

"Dad?" he heard Kieran saying from his left, snapping Severus out of his thoughts.

"What is it, Kieran?" Severus said, turning his head towards his other son.

"Can you come look at my potion? I think I added too many drops of Horklump juice."

Severus inwardly sighed, charming his stirrer to finish stirring his potion for him before making his way over to Kieran's side. This was the _third_ time Kieran had called him over since they'd begun brewing— Harry was helping him brew some Dreamless sleep for the infirmary today, and Kieran had relentlessly begged Severus to let him join them at breakfast. Normally, Severus would have Harry in the lab with him after breakfast and then it would be Kieran's turn after lunch, or occasionally, Severus would spend some time flying with the boy instead.

He noticed that Kieran had become rather clingy recently— the boy had taken to being with Severus almost constantly— as whenever Severus was in his study working, Kieran would settle nearby and work on his summer assignments or just read, which was strange because Kieran hadn't been so studious before. He didn't really think much of it. Then again, between the work that he must complete before term begins to the usually separate potions sessions with his two sons, Severus rarely had time for anything else these last several days.

"Did you have a difficult time understanding the instructions?" he said, looking down into the boy's cauldron of murky brown potion, far from the dark blue it was supposed to be at this point. Severus turned to look down at Kieran, raising an eyebrow, "I believe the recipe calls for _three_ drops."

"I _know_ — I just accidentally added a few too many," said Kieran, shrugging.

"You need to pay more attention to what you're doing, Kieran," Severus said sternly, taking a stirrer and examining the potion. "Fortunately, the potion is still salvageable... Tell me, what would you need to add in order to counteract the extra drops of Horklump juice?"

Kieran tapped his fingertips on the tabletop in a rhythmic pattern, brows drawn together in thought. Before his son could answer, however, Severus heard a loud sizzling coming from the other side of the lab— he turned to see Harry backing away from his overflowing potion that was bubbling menacingly, and quickly cast a shield charm just in time to contain the explosion.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Severus asked, making his way over to the boy.

Harry gave a short nod, frowning down at the remnants of his potion. "I'm sorry sir, I added too much Valerian root powder." He sighed tiredly, running a hand down his face, "I really didn't mean to ruin the potion."

"It is no matter," Severus said lightly, vanishing the ruined potion with a flick of his wand. Getting a closer look at the boy, Severus knew there was definitely something wrong. This was just unlike him. Harry had brewed this potion perfectly just a few days ago. He had been making remarkable progress recently, showing a hidden talent for potion making and even displaying genuine interest in the subject as well, which was uncommon in most of the students he taught. Severus had come to realize that these lessons were the only time that Harry appeared to be content and mostly at ease. It always made Severus' chest burst with pride whenever Harry's diligence resulted in a perfectly completed potion. His son definitely had potential that he didn't show, or wasn't allowed to show, in class before, and Severus had felt a pang of guilt, knowing very well who's fault _that_ was.

But today, something just seemed _off_ — was his son not getting enough rest? Was he having nightmares?

He studied the boy in front of him, noting the slightly slumped shoulders, and the weary, distant look in those green eyes.

"You seem distracted today," Severus commented. "Is there something on your mind?"

Harry gave him a long look before shaking his head, "It's nothing. I suppose I'm just a bit tired today."

 _That was definitely an understatement,_ Severus thought, the boy clearly appeared more than _just a bit tired_. And the faint dark circles beginning to form beneath his eyes certainly indicated otherwise.

"Have you been getting enough sleep? Any nightmares?" Severus asked quietly, so that only Harry could hear.

His son stiffened slightly, "No, sir. I'm fine."

Severus frowned and then gave a slightly exasperated sigh, "Are you certain?"

Harry just nodded.

No, his son was most certainly _not fine_ , but Severus wasn't going to let it go this time.

He planned to speak with the boy later today.

* * *

At lunch, Harry was pushing the food around his plate, occasionally taking a bite here and there, but not really having much of an appetite. Distantly he could hear Kieran and Clarice talking, though he could care less what they were saying.

He was bloody _exhausted_.

Especially after last night, Harry didn't think he had managed to sleep at all. It seemed every time he closed his eyes, the nightmares would begin wreaking havoc on his mind and jolt him awake. He had given up trying to fall asleep altogether after that last one. Though when he woke up, there had been a slight twinge in his scar. It only lasted for a few seconds, so he didn't think much of it. He was used to the pains from his scar by now anyway. However, these sleepless nights were taking a toll on him, and he still couldn't believe he had blown up his potion today; the first potion he had ruined since they started these lessons.

Maybe he should ask his father for a Dreamless sleep tonight...

But he knew that his father had been rather busy lately, and shouldn't be needlessly bothered by Harry having silly nightmares.

"The annual trip to France is coming up, Severus." He heard Clarice saying, "You have agreed to join us."

Harry looked up at that, wondering what she was talking about. _They're going on a trip?_

His father paused and then shook his head, "I'm afraid I can't attend the trip."

"But dad, you promised you would go!" Kieran exclaimed.

"I believe I said I would _consider_ it," said Snape, giving Kieran a warning look.

"Why can't you come with us?" said Kieran, frowning at his father then glancing at his mother. "It's supposed to be our first vacation together."

"If this is about the boy, you can always leave him with Dumbledore," Clarice suggested, her icy blue eyes landed briefly on Harry before they settled back on Snape. "Why let him ruin our family vacation."

Harry glanced hesitantly at his father, the conversation quickly reminding Harry of when the Dursleys would discuss what to do with _the boy_ while they were gone on their family vacations. His relatives never cared where he was left at, as long as he was out of their hairs.

"No, I plan on continuing the much needed lessons with Harry. He is my son, after all," Snape said, his dark eyes flashing dangerously. "And as such, I would rather _not_ waste my time on some silly vacation when there are more important matters at present."

"It's not some silly vacation Severus," Kieran's mother said, looking affronted. "It is an annual tradition that Kieran and I visit our extended family every year before the start of term. You were supposed to come along and meet them."

"Perhaps next year then," his father said dismissively. "Go ahead without me."

"Be reasonable Severus— you have been teaching the boy every day for the past week, don't you think you need a break from it all before having to teach classes again?" Clarice said, crossing her arms. "I'm sure Dumbledore wouldn't mind taking over and relieving some of your bur—"

" _Enough!_ " Snape snapped, startling Harry and Kieran. "I believe you have _overstayed_ your welcome, Clarice."

Her features shown blatant disbelief for a moment, "I beg your pardon?"

"I will _not_ allow anyone to call _my son_ a _burden_ in my home," Snape intoned, leaning forward slightly, his voice soft yet cold and brittle around the edges, eyes hard like black marbles. His father's glare was so potent that Harry wouldn't have been surprised if she had caught fire then and there.

Clarice seemed to backtrack, belatedly realizing she may have crossed a line, "Of course not, Severus, I was merely—"

"No, you have said _enough_ , Clarice." His father leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms tightly against his chest, "I want _you_ to _leave_."

There was a tense silence, no one daring to move a muscle. Clarice seemed to have been stunned speechless. Harry thought she was doing a rather decent impression of a human statue.

A moment later, she cleared her throat, the shock seeming to have melted off her face, leaving behind the usual cool expression. "If that is what you really want..."

"It is," Snape said coldly, giving a curt nod, an inscrutable mask back on his face, though Harry could see still make out some of the underlying anger still churning around in those dark depths.

"Very well then." Clarice said tightly, then she turned to Kieran, "Finish your lunch, Kieran, then we are leaving."

Kieran's head flew up so fast from staring down at his plate, Harry was surprised he didn't get whiplash.

"What?" Kieran bleated, looking back and forth between his mother and Snape. "Why do _I_ have to go? Can't I stay until we have to go to France?" He shifted to look fully at Snape, "Dad?"

"I have no objections to—"

"No," Clarice interrupted, "I think it's best if we leave earlier for the trip."

"But _why_?" Kieran protested, "Why can't I stay with Dad? He has no problems with—"

"Because I said so, Kieran," Clarice said sternly. She eyed his plate, "Are you finished?"

Kieran didn't answer for a moment, glaring down at his plate as if he wished all the food would turn to ash, then pushed it away with a bit too much force, muttering, "I can't eat anymore."

"Go to your room and pack, then. You won't be coming back before term begins."

Kieran opened his mouth as if to argue, but snapped it shut before any words came out. He shifted his glare to Harry before he pushed back from his chair and stalked out of the room. His mother soon followed him.

Harry blinked, still trying to process what had just happened. He didn't know _what_ to think of it. He hasn't seen his father this angry in a long time, and startlingly, the man had been angry on _his_ behalf.

And had his father really just told Kieran's mother to leave... because of what she said about Harry?

There was a warm glow that appeared briefly at his father's words, though it didn't last long before he felt the little bit of lunch he'd eaten settle like lead in his stomach.

She wasn't... _wrong_ , in a way, there were some truth to her statements...

He thought back to that conversation he had overheard.

 _Don't you think he's putting too much strain on your life... You deserve a break, after so many years of spying..._

He really didn't want Snape to miss the vacation with his family just because his father had to stay with him. Over the last few days, he'd watched his father with Kieran and Clarice from his bedroom window, feeling as if he was back in his cupboard and gazing out through the slits on the door at yet another happy family. He didn't want to intrude, knowing that was a family that Harry could never hope to be a part of.

And maybe that was for the best. He didn't want anyone else getting hurt because of him.

 _The boy is too much trouble for what he's worth... Dangerous to my family..._

* * *

A few hours later, Harry was in his room, settled in a comfy armchair with a book about concealment charms open on his lap. He was trying his hardest to not fall asleep, wanting to keep himself as busy as possible, hoping that if he was exhausted enough tonight, his mind would be too exhausted to conjure up the usual nightmares.

It was a losing battle though, as his eyelids were beginning to feel heavy.

He was drifting...

 _"BOY!"_

 _Harry looked up, immediately jolting as he saw the large mustached man standing in the middle of his room._

 _How did Uncle Vernon get here? Where was_ —

 _Before he knew it, a sharp crack whipped through the air and Harry felt a sudden pain on his back. He gasped and turned to see Uncle Vernon with a large leather belt, gripped tightly in his meaty hand._

 _"I lost my job because of you, you no good freak! Nothing but a burden to my family!"_

 _Harry quickly scrambled away from the portly man towering over him as another lash was coming his way. When Harry tried running around him, Uncle Vernon grabbed a hold of the back of his shirt, yanking him backwards._

 _"Oh, no you don't! You can't escape this time!"_

 _Harry couldn't help but shudder at the slight hissing quality Uncle Vernon's voice suddenly held. His uncle laughed menacingly, sending shivers down Harry's spine._

 _Another crack of the leather, and Harry squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the sharp sting of the belt, but it never came._

 _"Harry!" a familiar voice shouted suddenly._

 _His eyes snapped open, his breath catching in his throat._

 _The scene had changed._

 _His friends. Ron. Hermione._ _The Weasleys._

 _All of them laid at his feet, staring up at him._

 _Eyes blank, empty, lifeless._

 _"How many people will die because of you?" a voice hissed silkily, his words plunging through Harry's heart like a knife._

 _He tried looking away, the sight was unbearable, but he just couldn't. It was as if an invisible force was holding his head still and preventing him from doing so._

 _No... It was just a dream... It had to be..._

 _"Crucio!"_

 _Torturous screams followed._

 _Harry jerked his head towards the sound._

 _The sight caused his heart to drop to his feet._

 _It was Snape._

 _His father's sallow features were paler than usual as he writhed in agony on the ground, a pool of blood seeping through the man's robes. Multicolored curses flown from every direction, each one seeming to hit their target._

 _"A rightful punishment for a traitor," a soft menacing voice hissed. "Wouldn't you agree, Harry?"_

 _No no no_ —

 _Suddenly, Harry made eye contact with his father, the panic and terror he saw seeming to swallow him whole._

 _"Harry..."_

 _"Avada Kedavra!"_

 _A flash of green rushed past him, speeding towards his father._

 _"No!" Harry shouted, trying to reach his father before the curse did, but it was useless._

 _It hit directly into Snape's chest._

 _He fell onto his knees beside his_ _father, his trembling hands clutching at the man's robes._

 _"No, please..." Harry's breath hitched, "Dad..."_

 _Those obsidian eyes that were usually like dark tunnels full of hidden emotions, now appeared empty, staring unseeingly back at him._

 _Your fault. Everything is your fault._

 _Harry..._

 _All you do is get people killed._

 _Harry!_

 _"You cannot escape it, Harry. Everyone you love will die..."_

 _A cold voice was laughing distantly._

 _"Noooo!"_

 _And then everything exploded in a brilliant white light._

Harry woke screaming, his heart pounding wildly against his ribcage and his chest heaving as if he had just finished running a marathon. There was a fierce burning in his scar, and he was shaking so hard, he could almost feel his teeth rattling. He rubbed away the tears that had been sliding down his cheek, blinking furiously to clear his blurry vision as he glanced around the room. It was fairly dark now, just after sunset from what Harry could tell, and the book he had been reading had fallen to the floor beside him.

But there at other side of his room, Harry could barely make out a figure...

His blood ran cold in his veins.

It was... _his father_ , slumped against the opposite wall, unmoving.

A million thoughts raced through his mind.

 _What happened? Was he hurt? Did I do this? Had his father been trying to wake him?_

He could vaguely recall someone calling his name... right before he woke up...

Shakily getting to his feet, Harry slowly crept across his room towards his father. He had to choke back a sob as the images from the nightmare came flashing to the forefront of his mind. It was as if his nightmare had come true...

He couldn't even tell if his father was breathing or not— he just seemed to be _too still_.

 _Please be alright... please don't be dead..._

His fingers fumbled around Snape's neck, searching desperately for a pulse. He breathed a shaky sigh of relief as he found one fluttering beneath his trembling fingertips.

"Da... S-sir?" Harry said hoarsely, shaking the man's shoulders lightly.

When no response came, Harry shook his father harder. Finally Snape opened his eyes slowly, but once his father saw him, his eyes widened briefly in alarm before he quickly sat up, giving a slight groan as he rubbed the back of his head. "Harry? Are you alright?"

"I-I'm so sorry sir," Harry said hastily, scooting away from the man. "I didn't mean to— I-I don't what happened..."

He didn't stop until his back hit the front of the armchair, pulling his legs up to his chest and wrapping his arms tightly around them as he tried to control his trembling. The echoes of his nightmare were still ringing in his ears, and Harry buried his face in his hands, in a futile attempt to stem the tears from flowing.

A moment later, he sensed his father kneel in front of him and put a warm hand on his shoulder. He heard Snape calling his name, but he couldn't bring himself to look at the man.

"It's alright, Harry," he heard his father murmuring. "It was just a nightmare. You're safe here."

Harry shook his head slightly, exhaling a heavy breath. No, it _wasn't_. It had seemed so _real_ and was entirely _possible_ , which made it all the more frightening.

 _And I had just blasted him back into a wall... I could have seriously hurt him..._

 _Everyone gets hurt being around me..._

Harry felt his hands gently pulled away from his face, and hesitantly, he looked up.

"Harry?" his father said softly, black eyes peering at him with unconcealed concern.

The same dark eyes that he had just seen so _empty_ and _lifeless_...

Harry acted without another thought— he threw himself into his father's chest, wrapping his arms around the man and praying that he wouldn't be pushed away. For a split second, Snape had stiffened, but then his father's strong arms embraced him back, bringing them both upright as one hand came up to caress the back of Harry's head. He let out a shaky breath he didn't know he was holding and buried his face in the comforting darkness of his father's robes. The faint scent of herbs and spices surrounding him seemed somehow... _familiar_ , as if it was part of a distant memory.

And the terror from this nightmare that had filled his veins seemed to be gradually trickling away.

Was this what he'd been missing all these years? This was what it felt like to be comforted after a nightmare?

He couldn't remember ever experiencing this overwhelming feeling of warmth and safety before. The feeling of his father's arms surrounding him and the slight pressure of long fingers gently carding through his hair was like a soothing balm to lifelong wounds.

But wasn't he too old for this? He shouldn't be _needing_ this—

Harry reluctantly pulled away from the warm embrace, wiping his eyes with his sleeve, then dropping his gaze to his trainers, "I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to... act like... _this_."

How _pathetic_ —

"It's only natural to want comfort after a nightmare, Harry," his father said, cutting through Harry's thoughts. He kept a hand on Harry's shoulder, "How long have you been having these nightmares?"

"I guess... ever since I got back," Harry muttered, then hastily added, "They're usually not that bad though."

"Hmm... I beg to differ," Snape said, looking unconvinced. "You look exhausted."

Harry looked away.

He heard his father give a slight sigh, "Why did you not tell me?"

"Didn't want to bother you," Harry whispered, fidgeting with a loose thread on his trousers, "I've always been able to handle them myself."

Snape's lips thinned, and it looked as if he was trying to hold back a scowl, "You shouldn't have needed to, Harry."

Harry shrugged, "I don't want to be more of a burden than I already am."

His father frowned, dark eyes studying him for a moment before they landed on his scar. "Your scar is inflamed... Does it hurt?" he asked, reaching up and gently brushing Harry's fringe away from his forehead.

Without waiting for Harry to respond, his father held out a hand and conjured a small jar of blue salve. Harry just watched silently as Snape examined his burning scar and gently applied the cool salve, the pain immediately lessening as the salve began to take effect. After banishing the jar, his father led him over to the couch in front of the fireplace. Harry sat down, watching his father light a fire, brightening his room with a warm glow.

Snape then took a seat next to him and grasped his chin gently between his forefinger and thumb, turning Harry's head so that he was looking into those dark eyes, "Listen to me Harry, you are _not_ , nor _will you ever be_ , a burden to me." His father's voice was firm, but his eyes held a strange glittering.

Harry didn't know how to respond to that, feeling a rather large lump forming in his throat. He wanted to believe his father, but how could he, when his whole life, he'd been told the complete opposite.

He swallowed hard, clearing his throat and trying to speak around the lump, "Even with all the problems I cause you and your family?" Harry said thickly, his gaze settling on the flickering flames of the fire. "She's right, I suppose... I can see why she hates me, and I understand—I mean— I know I'm dangerous to be around, and maybe it's better if—"

"Stop right there," his father interrupted his rambling with a hand on his shoulder. "Look at me, Harry."

Harry took a trembling breath, then slowly turned towards the man.

"You are not causing problems nor are you dangerous; there are simply things that are beyond your control. Nothing that has happened so far is your fault," his father said firmly, an intense expression crossing his features. "And quite frankly, I don't give a _damn_ what Clarice thinks, and neither should you."

The hand on his shoulder tightened.

"You are _my_ son, Harry," he said fiercely. "You belong _here_ , and absolutely _nothing_ will change that."

A tear slid down his cheek as Harry blinked up at his father, but he wasn't aware of it, still trying to process all of the man's words.

"Really?" Harry rasped.

"Yes," Snape replied, his features softening as he briefly cupped Harry's cheek, lightly brushing away the stray tear with his thumb. "I want you here, Harry, and I will say this as many times as I need to."

Harry finally let all of his father's words sink in, that unfamiliar warmth washing over him again, spreading from his fingertips all the way down to his toes. His chest felt less tight, as if a weight has been dislodged and he could finally breath again. They were words that he had always wanted to hear, but never had the courage to ask for and somewhere along the way, had almost given up hope that he ever would.

He had been telling himself that he was fine— that he was more than able to take care of things himself as always, but the truth was that he just _wasn't_. He was tired of _pretending_ all the time— tired of bottling everything up and acting as if nothing was wrong, until he was fit to burst with all the indescribable emotions he'd kept locked away inside of him.

But there had been always something keeping him from completely trusting adults. Harry had realized early on that trusting came at a cost. Everything could possibly change in an instant and he would have been better not trusting in the first place.

This time though, there was such conviction in his father's tone that Harry felt the walls surrounding him with doubt and mistrust, finally beginning to crumble down around him.

* * *

Severus watched the emotions play across his son's face, hoping that his words were getting through to the boy.

He knew Harry needed to hear those words from him. The boy still thought of himself as a _burden,_ and Severus wanted to rid his head of that notion _._ It didn't matter how many times he would need to repeat them, as long as the message got through.

It was good timing on his part, having just watched Clarice and Kieran floo away, and then deciding to check on Harry. After that blow up during lunch, Severus had been determined to speak to the boy. He absolutely won't allow that, and it was for the best that they left. He need to focus on Harry, and Severus realized that with them here, he couldn't very well do that.

As he had walked into Harry's room, he saw his son sprawled on the ground, thrashing about and mumbling incoherently. Severus couldn't even begin to describe the sudden burst panic that had rushed through him when he couldn't wake Harry from his nightmare. It was disconcertingly similar to when Harry was under the effects of that curse, but Severus had pushed those thoughts far away. He heard Harry mumbling something that sounded strangely like _Dad_ , but he really didn't have time to think any more about it before a white, blinding light erupted from his son, blasting him back into the bloody wall and knocking him unconscious.

Severus certainly needed a headache relief draught after this to relieve him of the incessant pounding in his head from the impact, but for now, there were more important things concerning him.

He could have swore he saw Harry's eyes turn red for a millisecond just before he was blasted back, and considering his son's scar had also been red and looked to be swollen, Severus suspected the dream had something to do with the Dark Lord.

"What was the nightmare about, Harry?" Severus asked once the boy seemed to have calmed. He was glad to see some light making its way back into those green eyes. It must have been a terrifying nightmare to have caused this sort of reaction from his son.

Harry took a long, tremulous breath before saying, "It started out like any other nightmare, but then it was like Voldemort was taunting me in my head... My scar was burning when I woke up." He put his hand up, as if to rub the scar, but stopped midway when Severus shook his head in disapproval.

"Do your nightmares usually consist of the Dark Lord?" Severus asked, attempting to conceal his worry. He remembered Albus telling him about a connection between Harry and the Dark Lord, but he didn't know how deep that connection ran. Albus had apparently only briefed him on the bare minimum when the old man had urgently told Severus to teach Harry Occlumency last year. Perhaps it would be wise to start them again.

"Uh, not really... they're usually of other things..." Harry absently began tracing the faint pattern on the arm of the couch with his finger and sighed, "But this time I saw my friends dead, and... I saw him kill you."

His heart constricted painfully in his chest, and Severus didn't know quite what to say. After a beat, he cleared his throat, resting a comforting hand on his son's knee and squeezed gently. "I'm fine, Harry. It was nothing more than a nightmare," he said, even though that sounded rather inadequate.

His son gave a small nod, eyes shifting to Severus' hand on his knee.

"I think it's best if we restart your Occlumency lessons," Severus said after a quiet moment.

Harry looked up and grimaced slightly, "I'm rubbish at it."

Severus knew his son was no doubt remembering the failed Occlumency lessons from before, and he could admit that he had been unnecessarily harsh during those sessions. There was a pang of guilt in his chest as he remembered the callous way he had treated his son.

"Don't worry," Severus reassured, "I'm not unaware of my impractical methods before. This time, we will take it more slowly." He took out his wand, and waved it over his left hand, conjuring a familiar book: _A Beginner's Guide to Occlumency._

"This should be very useful in helping you close your mind," said Severus, handing the book to Harry. "I apologize. I should have given this to you before."

Harry accepted the book and briefly flipped through its pages.

"Occlumency can also help control your nightmares," Severus said, slipping his wand back into his sleeve.

Harry brows furrowed briefly before he nodded and closed the book with a heavy sigh. His son leaned against him slightly as his gaze settled on the crackling flames in front of them.

"Do you ever have nightmares?" his son asked softly a moment later, before cupping his hands over his mouth as a yawn overtook him.

Severus paused, a bit surprised at the unexpected question, and looked down at his son. "Occasionally, when the events are too traumatic and intense to suppress with Occlumency, such as after Death Eater gatherings for example."

"Oh," Harry whispered, shuddering slightly. "I'm sorry."

Severus shook his head and sighed, "Harry, I wish to know if _you_ have any more nightmares." He wrapped an arm around his son, pulling the boy a bit closer to his side, "I do not want you to suffer alone any longer."

His son turned his head and looked up at him with tired, glistening green eyes, a soft smile appearing on his features. Harry didn't say anything to that, merely giving a small nod as he stared back into the fire. They sat in a comfortable silence for a little while longer, until Severus noticed Harry yawning again and his eyes beginning to droop.

"You need some proper rest, Harry," Severus stood, bringing Harry up along with him. "You look like you haven't slept in ages."

Harry nodded tiredly, leaning against Severus as he lead him over to his bed. When Harry had settled himself under the covers, Severus called a house elf to bring him a vial of Dreamless sleep.

He waited until he heard Harry's breathing even out, then brushed an errant lock of hair from his son's forehead before putting out the fire and quietly leaving the room.


	18. Remind Me

The rays of sunlight were streaming in through the sides of the drawn curtains, creating pale streaks on the floor when Harry woke the next morning. He rolled over, checking the clock on his nightstand— it read half past eleven. He blinked a few times, then quickly sat up and glanced around the room, a bit bewildered. He couldn't quite believe he'd slept this late. This was definitely the latest he's slept in since coming to Prince Manor, though he probably shouldn't be surprised— he had been exhausted from all those sleepless nights and his father must have given him a larger dose of Dreamless sleep.

Pulling the covers back, Harry threw his legs over the edge of the bed and stood, stretching his arms up over his head until he heard a satisfying pop from his elbows. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so well rested. It was as if he could run endless laps around the manor or hike up a tall mountain or some other brilliant feat.

He ran a hand through his disheveled hair then made his way to the window and pushed the curtains open, squinting when the blinding sunlight engulfed him as it spilled into the room. When his eyes adjusted, he settled on the window alcove, drawing his knees up and loosely wrapping his arms around them as he gazed out the window. It was a beautiful day— the sun was shining brightly against a blue and cloudless sky, and a few birds would occasionally flutter by, chirping their songs to each other. As he leaned against the cool glass, a rather foreign feeling of contentment settled within him, which was a welcomed difference to the past few days.

When his stomach gave a rather loud grumble, reminding him that he had missed dinner yesterday and breakfast this morning, Harry got up, picked out some clothes from his closet, and went to go get changed.

After getting dressed, Harry glanced back out the window and noticed his father down at the potions garden, appearing to be inspecting a rather vicious looking plant that looked like it could take your arm off if you got too close. He thought Snape looked somewhat odd dressed in his usual black frock coat with his infinite buttons and black trousers, surrounded by a garden full of colorful plants. Harry wondered how the man wasn't suffering from a heat stroke wearing all that black outside during the summer. Then again, he didn't think he'd ever seen his father wearing anything else since he's been here. Did he even own any other clothes in his wardrobe?

As his father began walking back towards the manor, he seemed to have caught sight of Harry in the window and raised an eyebrow up at him. Harry gave a slight smile as he watched Snape disappear from view, the man's words from yesterday coming back to him.

 _You are not, nor will you ever be, a burden to me..._ _You are_ _my son, Harry... You belong here, and absolutely nothing will change that._

It brought a warmth to his chest that rivaled the sunlight.

Harry had even thrown himself at Snape, and his father didn't push him away in disgust. He had actually _held_ him, even though Harry had almost _killed_ him a few moments before. He couldn't remember the last time someone had hugged him like that. Sure Mrs. Weasley had comforted him in the infirmary after the third task in his fourth year and his friends sometimes threw themselves at him, but that was just different.

Another grumbled protest came from his stomach and Harry pulled away from the window, briefly checking himself in the mirror before heading out his room.

When he arrived in the dining room, Snape was already sitting at the table, a potions journal held up in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. As soon as his father noticed his presence, he set the book down, "I was wondering if you were going to sleep through lunch as well." He gave Harry a brief once over, "How are you feeling, Harry?"

"I actually feel well rested for once," Harry replied, giving a small smile as he slipped into his usual seat at the table.

Their lunch appeared in front of them as soon as he sat down, and Harry felt his mouth water a bit, feeling ravenous all of a sudden. They lapsed into silence for a while as Harry tucked into his lunch. There was a peaceful quietness that surrounded them, and Harry quite liked it, though it was sort of strange not hearing Kieran chattering away across the table from him.

"Did Kieran and his mother really leave?" Harry asked, after swallowing a mouthful of pasta.

"Yesterday," Snape said simply, not looking up from the journal.

"I'm sorry you couldn't go with them..." said Harry, recalling the conversation from yesterday in this very room.

"Do not be," his father said firmly, closing the book with an audible snap. "Whether she likes it or not, I have _two_ sons, not just one. She has no right telling me what to do in regards to you."

Harry smiled faintly, feeling that wave of warmth blossoming in his chest again.

"And I can assure you, I had little desire to join them." Snape sat back in his chair then, turning his head to look towards the large windows with streaks of sunlight filtering in, "Now, considering it's a rather pleasant day out, perhaps you would like to go flying?"

"Can I?" Harry said, trying not to sound too eager, but he was unable to help the hopeful smile that was breaking onto his face. "But I thought I wasn't allowed?"

"You have come to your last dose of nutrients potions," said Snape, gesturing to Harry's goblet of pumpkin juice. "And after having spent so much time in the lab recently, I do believe some fresh air would be beneficial."

"Brilliant!" Harry grinned, a the burst of excitement rushing through him at the thought of getting back on his broom.

The corners of his father's lips twitched upwards briefly, before he grew serious, folding his arms across the table, "However, it is imperative that you remain within the wards," he said sternly. "I don't want to take any chances of the Dark Lord and his followers finding you."

Harry nodded his understanding and grabbed his goblet, downing the rest of his juice.

He was itching to get back on his broom, having not flown his Firebolt since that last quidditch match before Umbridge had confiscated it. Over the last few weeks, Harry had seen his father flying with Kieran from his window, watching as they raced each other or threw a quaffle around. There was a small amount of envy that would bubble within him before he adamantly tamped it down, but he could never stop wondering what it was like to spend time with a parent like that.

Would Snape do the same with him? Should he ask?

Harry bit his lip as he began poking tiny holes into his remaining pasta with his fork.

But his father probably has more important things to do... He knew the man had been rather preoccupied lately, brewing potions for the infirmary and writing his lesson plans. Surely he didn't have time to waste—

"Something on your mind, Harry?"

Harry looked up to see his father regarding him with a slightly raised brow. He set his fork down, pausing for a moment before he cleared his throat. "Um... Could you go flying with me, sir?" he asked hesitantly, then quickly added, "But I can understand if you're busy—"

"Go fetch your broom," Snape said, waving him off, "I will meet you outside."

"Yes, sir." Harry said with an excited smile as he stood from the table and went to retrieve his broom.

There was a warm, gentle breeze that ruffled Harry's hair as he strode out into the backyard, his Firebolt clutched in his hand. The sun was beating down on him, but it wasn't overly hot like Harry thought it would be. When he traveled far enough away from the manor, Harry positioned himself on his broom, taking a deep breath before he pushed off the ground and into the air. He had missed this feeling of freedom and weightlessness associated with flying. It never failed to lift his spirits, allowing him to momentarily forget about all his troubles and worries.

Flattening his body against his broom, Harry sped across the yard, diving, twisting, and spiraling around while the summer wind whipped through his hair and stung his face. He was careful not to go too high up, unsure how high the wards reached, but he made sure he had enough height to perform all his tricks without fear of crashing into the ground. He had just finished a steep dive when he noticed his father standing near the entrance to the potions garden, seemingly observing him. Harry frowned and furrowed his brows as he noted his father's tense grip on his broom, along with the slight scowl on his face.

He wondered why that was, and his stomach suddenly tied itself into a knot.

 _Am I in trouble?_ _What did I do?_ _Had I done something wrong and not realized it?_

He thought he had been careful not to fly past the wards...

Harry was about to fly down to Snape, when his father mounted his broom and flew up to hover next to him instead. His features seemed to have already smoothed over from before, and Harry was just about to ask about that, but his father spoke first.

"What say you and I have a little race, shall we?"

"What _?_ " Harry blurted, a bit caught off guard. Well _that_ wasn't what he had been expecting his father to say.

Snape quirked an unkempt eyebrow, a hint of a smirk on his face, "Afraid of a little challenge?"

Harry just stared at the man for short moment before he shook himself, his mouth stretching into a grin, "Of course not, I was just wondering if _you_ were."

"Very well then," his father said, turning his broom toward the direction of the manor, "First one to make it around the manor and back, wins."

"Okay," Harry nodded.

"On three," Snape announced, as Harry lined up his broom with his father's.

"One..." he began slowly and Harry gripped his broom tighter, feeling a burst of adrenaline building within him. He saw his father turn to give him a mischievous smirk, and with a quickly muttered ' _three_ ,' the man had sped off.

"Hey!" Harry was almost blown back by his father's tailwind before coming to his senses and taking off after the man.

 _That cheating_ —

He caught up to Snape quite easily— his father's broom being no match for his Firebolt. Harry smirked back at him before flattening himself further on his broom and speeding ahead. Glancing over his shoulder, he couldn't help but chuckle when he saw his father scowl and pretend to glare at him, though there was amusement dancing in his dark eyes.

* * *

His son did have a talent for flying, Severus could admit, as he hovered on his broom, watching Harry continuing to sail through the air.

They have been flying around the manor for a while now, and Severus had attempted to at least best the boy _once_ in a race, despite knowing that his broom didn't stand the slightest chance against Harry's high quality racing broom. He did come very close one time, though he wasn't sure if that was just Harry taking pity on him. Eventually, he grudgingly admitted defeat and was now watching his son perform more of those daring maneuvers. Even though Harry was often going _much_ too fast for his liking, at least his son did seem to be controlling the broom with ease.

Severus had initially caught a glimpse of Harry from the large windows in his study as his son sped around the property, performing heart stopping aerial feats at breakneck speeds. He couldn't fathom what had gotten into the boy as he immediately grabbed his broom and hurried outside, about to call his son down and demand that he _slow the hell down_ , but decided against it when he caught a glimpse of the look of pure contentment and joy on Harry's face. There was a genuinely happy smile that Severus didn't think he'd seen in a long time. It was certainly the most carefree he had seen of Harry ever since he came to the manor, and Severus found he didn't have the heart to reprimand the boy. He would like to keep that expression on Harry's features for as long as possible, after everything that his son had been through recently.

Though he had lost count of the numerous times his heart leapt into his throat as he watched Harry dive towards the ground, mere inches from crashing into the earth before his son managed to gracefully pull up and level his broom. Severus had instinctively kept a hand on his wand, a cushioning charm on the tip of his tongue just in case. He might as well cast the charm over the entire yard, but even then, it wouldn't help lessen the impact if Harry was going _that_ fast.

Kieran wasn't nearly as daring as Harry was on a broom, and Severus was immensely grateful for that— he didn't think his heart could withstand all the twists and flips if both his sons possessed this daredevil trait. He would likely keel over from heart failure before he even reached forty.

After watching for a few more moments, Severus flew over to his potions garden and landed. He had intended to check up on his potions garden and harvest some of the ingredients that were ready. After this last batch of potions Severus needed to brew, he would _finally_ be finished with restocking the infirmary for the coming term.

He was just inspecting the flower of a plant when he heard the sound of shoes softly crunching on grass behind him.

"Are those Hellebore plants, sir?"

Severus turned around at the sound of Harry's voice. His son was a bit breathless, clutching his broom in his hand, his eyes bright and hair windswept.

"They are," he replied, impressed that Harry had recognized it. Usually his students could only identify the ingredients _after_ they were prepared for use. Severus knelt next to the plant and gestured for Harry to come closer, "These leaves are ready to be harvested and a syrup can be extracted from the flowers."

Harry set his broom down, then knelt beside him. "For the Draught of Peace, right?"

"Yes." Severus nodded.

"How are you going to extract the syrup?" his son asked, looking curiously at the closed flower.

"Like this." Severus gently stroked the underside of a petal with a gloved finger for a few moments until the flower slowly opened, revealing a shimmering blue drop of syrup resting on the tip of the stigma. He then pulled a vial from one of his many robe pockets and collected the drop into it.

"Can I try?" Harry asked after a moment.

"Of course." Severus banished both their brooms back to their rightful places and conjured another pair of gloves. He handed the gloves to Harry and explained the correct way to make the flower open and how to collect the leaves.

"Am I doing this right? It's not opening..." Harry said, frowning down at the flower he'd been trying to coax into opening for the past five minutes.

"Keep trying, it will open eventually. Some are more stubborn than others," Severus replied.

Harry nodded, a determined look crossing his features, similar to how it had appeared on Lily's. And it was during these times when Severus would be reminded of just how much of Lily was still alive in their son. Come to think of it, they were always _her_ expressions that would appear on Harry's face. The way Harry's brows would furrow in concentration or the habit of biting his lip when he was nervous— it was all Lily. Severus had seen it in the lab as well, in those brief moments where his son's lips would curl into that same soft smile, his emerald eyes bright after having successfully brewed a perfect potion.

"Finally! Took it long enough," Severus heard Harry muttering as the petals began to open, though there was a slight smile on his features as his son turned to look at him. He nodded in approval and handed the vial to Harry so he could collect the syrup.

At least Harry hadn't become frustrated or discouraged like Kieran had when he'd asked to help in the garden before. Kieran had become bored and disinterested rather quickly, and that was where his two sons differed, Severus supposed. He had the impression that Kieran was merely trying to please him, instead of actually being interested in the subject. Though when Kieran put his mind into the work, the boy usually produced fairly decent potions. Above average compared to the thick headed students he taught every year.

Severus set Harry to collecting from the rest of the Hellebore plants, while he focused on subduing the Chinese chomping cabbages that were munching viciously on some carrots he'd left for them earlier.

Once they collected everything that Severus needed, they made their way down to the potions lab and dropped the freshly picked ingredients off on the table. With a flick of his wand, all the jars filled of freshly picked ingredients organized themselves onto the shelves.

"Go on and take a shower, then you can take a break before dinner," Severus said as he saw Harry wipe the beads of sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He began setting up his work space, intending to brew a quick batch of draught of peace.

His son nodded and made to leave, but paused just short of the door and turned around, green eyes shining and small smile on his face. "Thank you for flying with me today, sir."

* * *

That night, Harry was curled up on the sofa, relaxing with a charms book open on his lap, but he wasn't reading it, his gaze on the tiny gleaming stars outside his window instead.

He couldn't help replaying the day's activities over in his mind. Today was probably one of the best days he'd had in a long time. It had been brilliant flying with his father and helping him collect potion ingredients. He never realized there was this much to potions, and it was definitely interesting learning the different ways to harvest certain ingredients.

He supposed this was what it was like to spend time with a parent...

There was a knock on his door, and Harry turned his head to see Snape walking in.

"This a well written essay, Harry." His father dropped the rolled up parchment on Harry's desk before coming to stand near the couch.

"Thank you, sir." Harry cracked a smile as he sat up. This assignment was the last he needed to finish before term started, and he had put it off because his father was the professor who taught the subject and he wanted to write it well. Snape had insisted that he proofread it, and the first draft of it was sent back by his father with plenty of suggestions to expand on the topic.

"What are you reading?" Snape asked, glancing at the book in Harry's hand.

"Oh, it's just a charms book I found in the library," Harry replied, closing the book. "It's rather interesting— I didn't know there were so many charms you can conceal yourself with..."

He trailed off when he glanced up and saw his father give him a peculiar look, a gleam in his eyes that he couldn't decipher before they fixated on the book in his hands.

"Your mother gave me this book. This subject had always been fascinating to her," his father said in a soft tone, pausing for a brief moment before continuing, "In fact, the first time she tried casting a glamour in our third year, she ended up with no eyebrows for a week."

"Really?" Harry stared at the book as if he was just seeing it for the first time. There was a fluttering in his chest at hearing about his mother, and a sudden longing to know more filled him. He really didn't know much about his mother, other than that she was an uncommonly kind and gifted witch, and that he had inherited her eyes. Everyone had always seemed to talk about James...

"Can you tell me more about her?" he said, glancing back up at his father. "I don't know much about her really..."

Snape didn't answer for several moments, and before Harry could retract his question, his father turned and abruptly swept out the room. Harry stared after him in confusion, and after a few minutes, his father returned with an old black rectangular box, just a bit larger than the length of his hand. Snape made his way around the sofa, and took a seat next to Harry, settling the box in his lap. It had a thick layer of dust coating the top, as if it had been left forgotten on a shelf for a long period of time. Harry could faintly make out something carved on the corner of the lid— _Lily_.

Harry inched closer to his father, his heart jumping to his throat as he peered curiously into the box. Inside contained some photographs and a small collection of random things that might not have meant much if he didn't know they were associated with his mother.

"I haven't looked at these in many years," his father murmured, taking out a photo with two figures moving on it.

He handed the photo to Harry, who took it slowly, his eyes widening slightly as he gazed down at a young girl and boy, sitting cross legged under a large oak tree in what appeared to be a Muggle backyard. The girl's lips quirked into a tiny smile as she regarded the boy next to her, who had his head bent over an open book on his lap, a curtain of black hair partially concealing his face. Harry's chest tightened and he swallowed hard when she turned to the camera and waved happily to him, one hand trying to tuck a few strands of vibrant red hair behind her ears as a gentle breeze teased it into her eyes.

"This was taken before our first year at Hogwarts," his father said.

"When did you two meet?" Harry asked, his eyes still drinking in the image as it replayed.

"We had lived close to each other as children," Snape explained, "I was the one who told her she was a witch, which she initially took as an insult." Harry cracked a small smile and looked up at him, noticing his father's dark eyes were slightly brighter than usual as he continued, "She was able to float off swings after jumping from great heights and animate flowers in the palm of her hand."

"Of course, Petunia was quite upset that she could not do the same, and was envious of Lily's abilities. She even wrote a letter to Dumbledore once, asking if she could attend Hogwarts with her sister."

Harry blinked, his jaw almost dropping to the floor. " _She_ wanted to go to Hogwarts?" he said in disbelief. He couldn't quite believe that... Petunia absolutely _loathed_ magic and anything to do with it. She and Vernon had thrown a fit every time Harry performed a bit of accidental magic when he was little. It was inconceivable to think that there had been a time when Petunia had actually _wanted_ to be magical.

"She changed her mind on the day Lily was supposed to leave, however, claiming that Lily was abnormal and repeatedly calling her a _freak._ "

Harry frowned, "She really called her that?"

His father nodded, a dark contemptuous look crossing his features as he muttered, "Some things never change, it seems."

Harry looked back down at the picture, "Where was this?"

"In her parent's backyard," Snape said softly, a fond look appearing briefly on his features. "They were the kindest Muggles I have ever met; I was always welcome in their home."

"What happened to them?" Harry asked quietly. "Aunt Petunia's never mentioned them before." He couldn't recall her saying anything about them, not even to Dudley. He briefly wondered what it would have been like if his grandparents had raised him instead of the Dursleys. They certainly seemed to accept that they had a witch in the family.

"I'm not sure, I believed they passed away before you were born," Snape replied solemnly.

"Oh," Harry whispered, then he looked up at his father. "What about your parents?"

He saw his father's face darken, "They could never hold a candle to her parents." Harry could have swore he heard some underlying bitterness in his father's tone, and wondered about that, but he didn't ask as the man pulled out two more photographs from the box.

One was a polaroid depicting teenage versions of his parents, settled underneath a large tree with the Black Lake and Hogwarts in the background. It was the same spot that Harry had sat under many times, doing homework or studying with Ron and Hermione. In the picture, Lily would nudge Snape's arm every so often, trying to get his attention while she smiled at the camera. Snape would briefly look up with a slight scowl at her before turning away, his nose once again buried in a book.

"I never enjoyed having my photo taken," his father said, "Lily had charmed that blasted camera to follow us around that day, trying to get a good picture."

He handed the other photo to Harry, "This was the only time I had allowed her to take a proper photo."

Harry gazed down at the two teenagers now standing next to each other. Snape stood a bit awkwardly, lips twitching into a slightly uncomfortable smile while Lily smiled brightly, green eyes glowing with obvious joy, her arm moving to wrap around him as she leaned comfortably into his side.

On the bottom of the photo, there were words written in a neat and loopy handwriting, almost like Hermione's:

 _I love this one of us, Sev!_

Harry smiled softly, gently tracing the inked words with his finger, thinking that only his mother could have gotten away with calling his father, _Sev_.

After replacing the photos back in the box, Harry noticed a small rolled up piece of parchment. He lifted it out of the box, carefully unfurling it. It appeared to be a drawing of someone brewing at a worktable, a couple potions ingredients laid out next to them. Some squiggly lines that Harry assumed represented the potion fumes were drawn rising slowly from the bubbling cauldrons. Upon closer inspection, Harry recognized Snape as the subject of the drawing, though it was a rather crude drawing of the real thing.

"She had drawn that picture of me in fourth year," his father said, lips twitching very slightly, "I believe she may have unintentionally exaggerated one of my undesirable features."

Harry gave a soft chuckle, realizing that his mother had indeed drawn Snape's nose larger than normal.

His father then gently lifted what looked like a Muggle snow globe from the corner of the box and handed it over to Harry, who held it carefully. He had seen Aunt Petunia displaying many of these trinkets on the mantle above the fireplace during the holidays, but unlike the Muggle counterpart, this snow globe didn't seem to need to be shaken for the snow to continue falling. There were two kids inside, continuously pulling a sled to the top of a rather steep hill and then sliding down together.

"Your mother made this," his father said reverently. "She gifted this to me for Christmas in our third year."

"Wow," Harry breathed, amazed by the magic. "Is that you and Mum in there?"

"It is," Snape nodded, "She was very gifted at charms."

"It's brilliant," Harry whispered as he watched his parents sledding down the hill again. He could see smiles on their faces as they glided speedily down the slope. He felt as if he could have watched them for hours, but after a few more minutes of gazing into the snow globe, Harry gently set it back down into the box.

The last thing was a turquoise ribbon, that had been hidden in the corner by the snow globe.

"She always had her hair tied up with a ribbon during potion classes. It used to drive her mad whenever the fumes made her hair frizzy," his father explained.

Harry rubbed the smooth fabric between his forefinger and thumb, trying to imagine his mother tying her hair up with it.

"Lily had a natural talent for potions," Snape continued. "She would consistently be at top of the class."

"Really?" Harry was a bit surprised and also pleased to hear of this new tidbit of information. He smiled crookedly up at his father, "She did better than you?"

There was a tiny smile on his father's usually stoic features, "It was always between the two of us that fought for the top spot."

"I guess I didn't really inherit that talent," Harry muttered, lowering his eyes back to the ribbon in his hand.

"You have been doing well in our potion lessons recently," Snape said, a faint note of pride in his tone.

Harry nodded, cracking a small smile, "I've been finding it more interesting lately. It's sort of like cooking, but more precise and dangerous."

"Indeed," his father replied.

They lapsed into silence for a while as Harry put the ribbon back into the box and gazed at the pictures of his mother smiling up at him again.

Ever since he received that letter from his mother, Harry had wondered how his mother and Snape had gotten together, but now, it was obvious. They had known each other since they were young, and the way his father spoke of her... and the way she had wrote about him... He briefly imagined what it would have been like if he had grown up with her and Snape, and a sudden wave of grief swept through him.

If only Trelawney didn't make that stupid prophecy... He hated Voldemort even more now— not for marking him, but for taking his mother away before he had ever gotten the chance to know her. Harry would have given anything to have just one happy memory of his mother. All he remembered were her screams and pleads to spare his life...

"I wish I got to know her," Harry whispered sadly, his chest unbelievably tight. "The only memory I have of her is when she was murdered."

His father seemed to stiffen and didn't respond for a while, until Harry felt a warm hand on his knee, "I wish you did too," he murmured. "You would have experienced her fiery temper and overprotectiveness for all those dangerous stunts you pulled over the years." The corners of his lips quirked ever so slightly, before he gave a sad sigh, "She would have never let you out of her sight."

"You remind me so much of her," Snape said softly, after a long pause. "You're more like her than you know, Harry."

Somehow, his chest seemed to constrict even more at that.

It was silent for several minutes again, both of them seemingly lost in their own thoughts.

"Do you still lo..." Harry began, but trailed off, lowering his eyes and biting the inside of his cheek. He didn't know what compelled him to ask, but then the memory of his father, Clarice, and Kieran in Diagon Alley flashed through his mind. He just felt the need to know... They had seemed like they fancied each other... And Harry didn't know how long his father had known Clarice, but he assumed they've known each other for a long time as well, considering they had Kieran together...

" _Expecto Patronum."_

Harry snapped his head up as a burst of silver light erupted out of the tip of his father's wand, illuminating the entire room to the point where it was almost blinding. He squinted at it until it took a shape, forming into a shining silvery doe that cantered gracefully once around the room before coming to a stop directly in front of him. He looked into those translucent eyes of the patronus, feeling a strange sense of familiarity with the silver creature, as it stared steadily back at him.

"She's beautiful," Harry murmured, reaching forward as the doe bowed its head and nuzzled against his hand.

"It was your mother's," his father said softly, his dark eyes glittering. It was like looking at a night sky full of stars.

Harry felt his throat constrict, his chest aching as he leaned slightly against his father.

That's why he felt as if the patronus was familiar. It was like she was still here, watching over them. Didn't he read somewhere that it was rare for two people to have the same patronus... She must be his happiest memory...

He felt his father's strong arm wrap around his shoulder, gently pulling him closer into the man's side.

They watched silently as the doe seemed to nod in approval, then it turned and galloped off out the window, vanishing into the starry darkness.

"You must have really loved her..." Harry whispered after a quiet moment— it was barely audible, yet his father still seemed to hear it.

"I always will." Snape stated, his grip tightening around Harry, and after a moment's pause, his father murmured, "Even more so, knowing she gave me you."

Harry gave a watery smile, and leaned further into the embrace, his chest tight yet his heart seemed to soar within it.

* * *

Severus was settled in a chair next to Harry's bed, listening to his son's even breathing after having briefly helped him organize and clear his mind. He had initially intended to begin Harry's Occlumency lessons tonight, but after the last hour, his own emotions were in a state of disarray.

He sighed heavily as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands— he hadn't planned on reminiscing tonight, having pad locked those memories away so long ago.

 _I wish I got to know her,_ Harry had said.

His heart clenched uncomfortably— their son would never know how full of life Lily was, or how much joy she could spread to everyone around her. Harry would never be able to hear Lily's sweet laughter or see her bright smile that could light up a room full of darkness. And after everything that Harry went through over the years, from those damn Muggles to the Dark Lord, Severus knew Lily would have fought tooth and nail to protect their son if she were here. She would have cursed Petunia and her despicable whale of a husband for the way they treated Harry. And Lily wouldn't have hesitated in hexing him as well for being so cruel to their son these past few years.

After rubbing his eyes, Severus leaned back in his chair, glancing at the box of Lily's possessions he had set on Harry's nightstand beside a dark red covered book. There was something sticking out of it that caught Severus' attention. When he opened the book, what he saw inside caused his breath to catch in his throat.

It was a photo album, but the pictures displayed on the first page were pictures of Lily and baby Harry, and _himself._

 _Where did Harry get these?_

He gazed down at the photos, drawing in a slightly trembling breath as he watched the interactions of the people in them.

Everyone in these photos seemed so... _content_.

He was holding Harry in a rocking chair as they both slept soundly... He was bouncing Harry on his knee as the baby giggled happily... In another, he was making ridiculous motions with the spoon as he attempted to feed Harry in a high chair.

It was like looking at an alternative version of himself...

Then it struck him— the letter from Lily... and the vial of...

He hadn't looked at them yet— it was about time he did.

Setting the album back on the nightstand and taking one more look at Harry, Severus left the room and quickly went to his study. He undid the wards on the drawer and carefully pulled out the vial of swirling silvery-white memories.

Severus retrieved his Pensieve from the cabinet near his desk, uncorked the vial, and slowly tipped the silvery contents into it, where they swirled and shimmered brightly.

He stared down at the basin for a moment, feeling a bit apprehensive over what he was about to witness.

Taking a deep breath and not wanting to prolong this any further, Severus bent forward, but before he could make contact with the silvery substance, an alarm signaling a Floo call sounded.

"Severus?" It was Poppy's voice, sounding a bit breathless and frantic. "Severus, are you there?"

Severus straightened and took a few steps toward the fireplace, "What is it, Poppy?"

"Oh, Severus!" She exclaimed when she saw him, "Something has happened to Albus, I need your help. Please come quickly."

* * *

 **A/N:** _Well there ya have it. I'm sorry this took forever, I've been extremely busy these last few months and was stuck with some major writer's block. This chapter ended up a lot longer than I originally intended._

 _Thanks so much to everyone who had reviewed, followed, and favorited this story! We're getting closer to those long awaited memory scenes_ — _they're coming in the chapter after the next one! I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, and let me know what you_ _think! I have most of the story mapped out, but I'd love to hear your suggestions of anything you'd like to see happen in the story._


	19. Temptations

Harry thought it rather odd to be greeted by an empty room when he arrived at breakfast the next morning. He'd become used to seeing his father already seated at the table, sipping a cup of black coffee and a potions journal or the Daily Prophet in hand. Snape had never missed a meal, nor had he let Harry miss one either, besides yesterday.

Maybe he was busy brewing?

That was a possibility; his father could have lost track of time while focused on an important potion.

Deciding to check, Harry made his way down to the lab, but upon arrival, he found the room dark and uninhabited. Harry went back up and decided to check his father's study next, slowly opening the door when he received no response after giving it a few knocks. The study was empty as well and the curtains were still drawn. As Harry was turning to leave, a patch of shivering light glimmering over his father's desk caught his eye.

Curiously, he crept towards it, recognizing the source of the light as a Pensieve, one that was smaller and less embellished with only a few runes and symbols engraved on the edges compared to the one in Dumbledore's office. Harry wondered why his father seemed to have left this sitting around, the situation strongly reminiscent of that moment in his fifth year. He peered cautiously down into it, watching the silvery-white substance swirling ceaselessly within the basin. Very brief snippets of scenes flashed by, too quickly for Harry to make any sense of. Mostly all of them seemed to contain a man, a woman, and a baby…

Then the swirling suddenly stopped, and a single scene shifted into focus. Harry found himself staring down into what appeared to be a long corridor with sunlight flooding in through the large windows and towering columns standing along the stone walls.

Seated on a secluded alcove, almost obscured by a pillar, was a boy hunched over a book, dark hair curtaining part of his face from view. A girl came around the corner a moment later, moving towards the boy, the sunlight glinting off her dark red hair...

Harry tilted his head, leaning closer...

 _Is that_ _—_

Something snapped in his mind, and Harry pulled back, just before the tip of his nose could make contact and pull him into the intriguing scene playing out below him. He took a few steps back, becoming aware of his heartbeat drumming in his ears. The last time he'd found himself in this same situation, Harry had come across one of his father's private memories, resulting in a livid Snape and a heavy jar of dead cockroaches hurled at him, just nearly missing his head. He didn't exactly know where his father was at the moment, but he definitely wasn't keen on recreating the incident from last year.

Harry turned on his heel and left the study without glancing back, trying to push the brief scene and his growing curiosity out of his mind.

After checking his father's bedroom and seemingly the entire manor (inside and out), Harry ended up back in the dining room, confusion mingling with worry now that he was certain Snape had left. The first thought that crossed his mind was a summons from Voldemort, but then Harry quickly reminded himself that his father was no longer a spy, and was immensely relieved he didn't have to ponder that possibility.

Maybe Dumbledore had called him and he was at Hogwarts?

But then why didn't his father tell him? Harry didn't see a note or anything letting him know where Snape had went… and it wasn't like his father to up and leave without notice. Unless he had left in a hurry…

"Mimkey?" Harry called.

A moment later, the house elf popped into existence beside him. "Does Young Master be needing something from Mimkey?"

"Do you know where my dad is?"

"Oh, yes," the elf squeaked. "Master Snape was called away by Madam Pomfrey."

"Called away?" repeated Harry, furrowing his brows. "Do you know why?"

Mimkey shook her head, her ears flopping from side to side, "Mimkey is only ordered by Master Snape to watch the young master while he be away."

"How long has he been gone?"

"Since last night, sir."

So his father had been gone all night, and he still wasn't back yet. Did something happen? Why would Madam Pomfrey need his father… unless someone was injured? Perhaps she needed him to brew some potions? But that task wouldn't take the whole night, would it?

His thoughts were interrupted when Mimkey nudged him towards his seat at the table, "Young master stlll be needing to eat his breakfast."

"Do you know when he'll be back?" Harry asked after complying. Plates of toast, bacon, eggs, sausages, fruit, and porridge appeared on the table before him. It was simply too much food for only him.

"Master Snape did not say, but young master must not worry, Master Snape will be back soon," said Mimkey, patting his arm comfortingly. "Does young master be needing anything else from Mimkey?"

"No, that's all. Thanks, Mimkey," said Harry, offering a small smile.

She gave a short bow and then disappeared with a soft pop.

Harry sighed, looking around at the assortment of food. As he tried to fill his plate, Harry thought it rather strange to be eating at this large table alone.

After managing to finish some porridge and a few pieces of bacon, Harry went back to his room, and was greeted by a snowy owl perched on his desk, two brown envelopes bound to her leg. When Hedwig noticed him coming, she hooted at him and held her leg out. He caught glimpses of Ron and Hermione's handwriting on the front, and he wondered how his friends took the news. These were the responses he'd been waiting for, but at the moment, Harry wouldn't mind if he had to wait a little while longer.

"Thanks, Hedwig." Harry gave her an owl treat that he'd retrieved from his trunk. He ran a hand gently over her feathers, before she flew over to settle on her perch in the corner of his room.

Harry turned his attention to the brown letters in his hands waiting to be read. Taking a deep breath, and not wanting to prolong this any further than necessary, Harry decided to open Hermione's letter first.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Oh my goodness, it must have been quite a shock finding out Snape is your father. Are you really all right? I must admit, I was rather surprised when I'd read how Snape was treating you. Hard to imagine coming from him, but I'm so glad your happy with your new life. It's wonderful that you don't have to live with the Dursleys anymore._

 _Ron was going mad when he read your letter. He even made some ridiculous plans to try to rescue you, but don't worry, Ginny and I managed to talk some sense into him._

 _Have you finished your summer assignments yet? Well, I suppose one of the advantages of having a professor as your father is that he could look over them for you. You're so lucky_ _—_ _you must have a massive amount of resources available to you! Remember, we only have a two more weeks until term starts again._

 _I hope we can see each other before then. We have so much to catch up on._

 _Love,_

 _Hermione_

Harry gave a tiny smile, shaking his head as he finished reading the letter. Of course, Hermione would obsess over the summer assignments. He thought she seemed to take the news rather well. After rereading it once more, Harry set the letter down and moved onto Ron's. He could already assume that Ron's reaction would be different to Hermione's.

 _Harry,_

 _Let me get this straight, your mother sent you a letter on your birthday and told you Snape was your father? Bloody hell! Was she serious? Is this some sort of joke? Do you know how mental it all sounds? I mean, how could that even be possible? Snape hates you and has always been a right git to you! Did he seduce your mum or force a love potion or something? If he didn't, I wonder what your mum saw in him. Do you even look like him now_ _—_ _hook nose, greasy hair, and all that? Merlin, you must have the worst luck Harry!_

 _Are you sure you're okay? I know you said you're fine, but honestly, it's Snape you're talking about. Is he really treating you better? He doesn't force you to gut frogs or scrub cauldrons all day, does he? I can't really imagine Snape even being a father, I guess I have to see it to believe it..._

 _You have to come visit soon. Maybe you can ask Snape if you can come over?_

 _Good luck with that, mate._

 _Ron_

When Harry finished reading, he had to reread it again, just to make sure he didn't miss anything.

Well… _that_ was certainly better than he'd been expecting. At least Ron didn't immediately renounce their friendship or anything of the sort, though he could do without those barbs at his father. Not very long ago, he probably would have agreed with Ron, but now everything was just… different.

Harry released a full sigh of relief, knowing that his friends hadn't completely shunned him after they were told the news.

Should he ask Snape if he could visit the Burrow? Would he let him?

If this were the Dursleys, there would be no point in asking, but this was his father. It would be Harry's first time asking his _parent_ if he could visit a friend's house, something so ordinary that Harry never thought he'd ever get the chance to do.

He hadn't seen his friends since the end of term, and after everything that had happened this summer, he had plenty more to tell them. Harry knew his appearance had changed enough for them to not recognize him, and he wondered how they were going to react to that. Fred and George didn't immediately recognize him until they noticed his scar.

Harry went over to his trunk and pulled out a quill and two blank pieces of parchment, then took a seat at his desk. He absently chewed on the tip of his quill as he tried to formulate the proper responses to his friends' letters. Harry was just finishing by the time Mimkey called him for lunch a few hours later, and he realized his father was _still_ not back yet. The letters had been a good distraction, but now he felt some of the concern returning.

After lunch, Harry went to go to the library and picked out a book to read, then made his way to his father's study. He curled up on the settee, planning on waiting there until his father returned. He purposefully positioned himself so that he was facing away from Snape's desk with the Pensieve. Every time his mind wandered to those swirling memories behind him, Harry shook his head and resolutely pushed them away, refocusing his attention on his book.

* * *

Severus sharply flicked his wand, levitating the accursed object carefully out of its box. The afternoon sunlight reflected off the surfaces of the gold ring as it rotated slowly in the air. Severus narrowed his eyes, studying the small unfamiliar symbol engraved on the stone. It didn't look like any rune Severus had ever seen. But he knew the thing was cursed, that much was certain, by the waves of dark magic he could feel radiating off of it, and Severus wondered again how Dumbledore could have acted so foolishly. Surely, a wizard of Dumbledore's caliber could have detected the sinister nature of the ring, and would act carefully _not_ to touch it, let alone put the bloody thing on.

He briefly glared at the man in question, resting in one of the infirmary beds, his bandaged hand the only sign left of the long ordeal.

It had taken a great amount of effort for Severus and Poppy to get the thing off Dumbledore's finger. The ring seemed to have a mind of its own, but they'd somehow manage to temporarily block the dark magic and remove it. Dumbledore's fingers and hand had begun blackening at a rapid pace, and Severus had set to muttering all sorts of incantations from his knowledge of the dark arts in an attempt to reverse the curse or slow the progression. Fortunately, Severus had managed to block the progression and expelled the curse to just below Dumbledore's knuckles. He then hurriedly made his way down to his lab in the dungeons, needing to brew a complicated potion he knew would help completely purge the dark magic from Dumbledore's system. The potion was one of the more advanced brews and there were multiple steps to brewing and administering it. Dumbledore had needed several doses of the potion, and by the time Severus finished administering the last dose, it was late afternoon the next day.

Out of the corner of his eye, Severus noticed Dumbledore stirring, his eyes fluttering open.

"Severus?" Dumbledore whispered, glancing around the room before his gaze locked onto the floating ring in front of Severus, remembrance flickering through his blue eyes.

" _What_ were you bloody thinking?" Severus demanded, turning to fully face the headmaster. "Surely, you realized the ring carries a curse, what possessed you to put the damn thing on?"

Dumbledore grimaced, sitting up slowly. "I... was a fool… bested by temptation."

"Temptation?" Severus echoed, narrowing his eyes. "What for?"

He didn't receive a response from Dumbledore, and Poppy chose that moment to emerge out of her office, "I would appreciate it if you didn't harass my patient, Severus."

Severus scowled, sending her an irritated glare that she chose to ignore as she made her way over to Dumbledore's bedside.

"How are you feeling, Albus?" she asked, waving her wand over him.

"Much better than I last remember. Thank you, Poppy." he replied, the usual smile appearing on his old features.

"You really should thank Severus," said Poppy, handing him his half moon spectacles. "I was at a loss, having never come across such a dark, debilitating curse. Severus managed to contain the curse and brewed the proper potions to help dispel it entirely."

"It appears I owe you both an enormous amount of gratitude," said Dumbledore, adjusting his glasses and turning to the both of them.

"You were very fortunate Hagrid came across you on his way back to the castle— a few minutes later and the curse would have been irreversible," Severus snapped, lowering the ring back into its box and spelling it shut. "The ring carries a curse of extraordinary power, it was a miracle Poppy and I were able to contain it, let alone eliminate it entirely."

"Yes, very fortunate indeed," Dumbledore nodded, casually studying his bandaged hand. "I must have lost consciousness when I finished Apparating. Hagrid found me, you say?"

"Yes, and thank Merlin he was on his way back from Hogsmeade. You would have been there for hours before anyone was aware." Poppy summoned a jar of blue salve, "You seem to be recovering well. This will help with any residual pain left from the curse. Other than that, your hand should be good as new in a few weeks or so."

"I thank you again for your services, Poppy." Dumbledore accepted the jar and slipped it into a colorful robe pocket. He then stood, turning towards Severus, a serene smile on his face as he placed the box with the ring in his other pocket, "If you don't mind, Severus, I would enjoy the company on my way back to my office."

Severus nodded, following Dumbledore out of the infirmary and to his office. He wondered if he was going to get some straight answers from the headmaster for once. Though he probably shouldn't hold his breath. They walked in silence through the quiet corridors until they reached the stone gargoyle and Dumbledore said some absurd Muggle sweet to gain entrance.

Fawkes greeted them as they entered the Headmaster's office, fluttering his vibrant wings and trilling joyfully.

Severus regarded him with a sideways glare as he sank tiredly into the chair in front of Dumbledore's desk, feeling his remaining energy draining and the exhaustion beginning to settle deep in his bones.

He watched Dumbledore take his time organizing some of the pieces of parchment and books strewn all over his desk before the headmaster took his seat and pulled out the box containing the cursed ring, setting it next to his bowl of multicolored sweets. A strange look briefly passed over Dumbledore's old features as he gazed at the ring, but it was gone before Severus could identify it. He wondered why this cursed ring seemed so important to him.

"Are you planning on displaying that along with your other ridiculous trinkets?" Severus sneered, eying the various bits and pieces displayed around the office with distaste.

Dumbledore looked up and chuckled, "No, it is of far more significance than the others."

Severus raised an eyebrow, as a gesture for Dumbledore to elaborate, but gave an irritated sigh when the headmaster remained silent. He glanced back at the ring, "What is that symbol engraved on the stone?"

Dumbledore didn't immediately answer, taking a moment to pick apart two lemon drops and popping one into his mouth before replying, "An ancient rune, perhaps."

Severus arched a skeptical eyebrow at him, unconvinced. Obviously, the old coot knew more than he was letting on. "How did you just happen to come across this thing?"

"Plenty of researching," Dumbledore said simply, clasping his hands together. "The pieces of the puzzle are coming together quite nicely."

Severus forced out a breath. Why was it like pulling teeth trying to get any simple answers from the old man?

He was about to ask more on the matter, but was halted when Dumbledore held up his bandaged hand. "It will all be revealed in due time, Severus."

Severus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Why am I not surprised," he grumbled. Of course, Dumbledore was still his naturally secretive self. Normally he would have attempted to press further on the matter, but at the moment, he seemed to lack the energy to do so.

"Now, about the special mission Voldemort has given the young Malfoy," Dumbledore began after a short pause, causing Severus' head to snap up at the abrupt change in subject.

Severus ran a hand down his face, "A death sentence, more like," he said quietly, recalling the conversation he'd overheard. "The Dark Lord is punishing Draco for Lucius' failures."

It was the last time Severus spoke to Draco before his cover had been compromised, and the Dark Lord wasn't pleased. He wished he could have done more to sway Draco from following in Lucius' footsteps. Even though Severus was named his godfather by Lucius and Narcissa, he was only able to observe from the sidelines, carefully keeping his cover and indulging the boy like some semblance of a godfather would. He'd watched Draco grow from an innocent, bright child to a teen heedlessly parroting Death Eater propaganda.

Dumbledore inclined his head, steepling his long fingers beneath his chin, "Yes, and a frightened child is more likely to lash out in desperation."

"Draco is simply trying to please his father by following in his footsteps." Severus leaned back in his chair and sighed, "I wish I could have done more to prevent it."

"Perhaps this year, you can. You are his godfather—"

"—yes, but now that my allegiances are clear, he has likely lost all trust in me."

"Just as well, do what you can and keep a close eye on him," Dumbledore said firmly. "For his sake, as well as the other students."

Severus nodded, though he didn't believe Draco capable of murder. He knew the boy emulated his father almost to the point of no return, but he knew Draco had inherited more from Narcissa, though buried deeply as it was at the moment. Severus just hoped he wasn't too far out of reach.

"I have no doubt some students will be unhappy with your supposed betrayal," Dumbledore commented.

"Which is why I need to be cautious," Severus said, knowing the students with Death Eater parents. "Especially when Harry's true parentage becomes public knowledge."

This could be the most _interesting_ year yet. Not that the last several years weren't. It was just that _everything_ was going to be different this year. His true allegiances were revealed and he was no longer required to work under a disguise of a loyal Death Eater. Severus would also have not one, but _two_ sons under his care, attending Hogwarts the following term. He could only imagine the reactions from the student body when it becomes publicly known that _Harry Potter_ was in fact his son.

"How is he, as of late?" Dumbledore asked, after a brief pause.

Severus looked down at the floor, his mind flashing to visions of Harry brewing comfortably beside him to the boy gliding through the air on his broom, a carefree expression on his face. Then it twisted into Harry on the floor, thrashing and struggling against invisible demons, his normally green eyes flashing a sinister red before Severus was blasted back—

"Harry is… fine." Severus began quietly, kneading his forehead. "Gradually recovering..." he hesitated, "however, he's been suffering from rather vivid nightmares… one recently brought about by the Dark Lord."

"I see." Something flickered behind Dumbledore's eyes, like clouds passing over the sun. He leaned forward in his chair, "Does this occur often?"

Severus shook his head, "No, I have only witnessed one such incident."

"And what, if I may inquire, did this dream consist of?"

"Visions of his friends dead and…" Severus grimaced, "myself, dying."

Dumbledore nodded, looking pensive for a moment. "He's using Harry's fears against him," he said softly. "Which is all the more need for Harry to master Occlumency."

"I'm aware." Severus said, crossing his arms over his chest. He cleared his throat, "but concerning this connection between Harry and the Dark Lord… how deeply are they linked?"

"I have my suspicions," Dumbledore said. "However, nothing is set in stone, as of yet."

Severus glared at the old man, but Dumbledore didn't seem to notice as he studied a loose thread on his robe sleeve. Again, Severus felt as if the Dumbledore knew more than what he was letting on. And for some reason, the headmaster decided not to disclose important information to Severus, even though it pertained to _his son_. He truly wished he possessed the energy to pursue the subject further, but for now, he'd have to leave it. _For now._

A long silence ensued, broken only when Fawkes gave a loud trill, fluttering his mighty wings and taking off from his perch in a whirl of orange and red. Severus followed the phoenix's flight out the open window until it became just a red speck against a cloudy blue sky.

"I should take my leave now as well," Severus said, standing and turning towards the Floo. He should really return home and check on Harry, then get some much needed rest. He was practically dead on his feet.

"Of course, enjoy the rest of your summer, Severus," Dumbledore smiled, rising as well, "and give Harry my best."

Severus gave a curt nod, grabbing a pinch of Floo powder and throwing it into the grate. Just as he was stepping into the green flames, Severus noticed out of the corner of his eye, Dumbledore removing the sword of Gryffindor from its glass casing...

 _What the bloody hell was he doing now?_

Severus shook his head, not thinking anymore of it as he was swallowed by the flames.

He stepped out of the fireplace with a smidge less grace than he normally would. His legs buckled slightly underneath him, but he recovered quick enough. The glimmering above his desk reminded him of the memories he had yet to see, and Severus drew the memories back into the vial, setting them inside his drawer, intending to look at them first thing in the morning.

A light snoring then drew his attention to a boy dozing on his settee, an open book resting on his chest. He was glad his son seemed to be sleeping peacefully for once, no hint of a nightmare on his features. It made him appear younger than he actually was.

"Harry," Severus gently shook his son's shoulder.

Harry shifted, eyes fluttering open and blearily looking around until they landed on Severus.

"You're back," he whispered, sounding relieved. Harry quickly sat up and ran a hand down his face as if trying to clear away the last remnants of sleep. He looked up at Severus with concerned green eyes, "What happened? Mimkey said you were called away by Madam Pomfrey last night."

Severus took a seat next to him, "Professor Dumbledore had a sort of _accident_."

Harry frowned, "It must have been bad. You were gone a long time."

Severus leaned against the arm of the settee, fighting the heaviness in his eyes. "He thought it a good idea to put on a ring containing a dark curse."

" _What?_ " Harry's eyes widened, "Why would he do that?"

"Who knows what the headmaster is thinking nowadays," Severus said dryly.

"Is he all right?"

"Fortunately, Madam Pomfrey and I managed to prevent the curse from fatally spreading."

"Oh," Harry let out a breath, "that's good. Glad he's okay."

Severus nodded, gazing out the window and noting the sun was just beginning its journey down toward the horizon. He glanced at the clock, realizing it was past their usual dinner time already.

"Have you had dinner yet?" Severus asked, turning back to his son.

"Er, no, not yet." Harry said, scratching the back of his neck.

"Why not?"

Harry shrugged, "I wanted to wait until you got home."

"I see," Severus said, "Well then, shall we have dinner?"

Harry nodded and Severus led the way to the dining room, just realizing he was starving, having not eaten since dinner last night.

"What have you been up to today?" Severus asked once they'd settled at the table.

"Nothing much," Harry replied. "Just been doing a little reading, and I wrote back to my friends." He chewed his bottom lip, seeming to hesitate for a second, "I told Ron and Hermione about us."

"Did you?" said Severus, taking a sip of his tea. "I'm sure it came as a shock."

He hadn't really given much thought to how Harry's friends would react to their relationship. Though Severus supposed he could put up with the Weasley brood and Granger if they stayed loyal to his son.

"Yeah," Harry began making swirls in his potatoes, "Hermione took it better than Ron I think." He paused briefly, "Can I visit the Burrow? I want to see them before term starts again."

"I'm sure that can be arranged," Severus said after a moment. "I'll speak to the Weasleys."

"Really?" Harry sounded a bit surprised at first. The corners of his lips rose, "Thanks, sir."

The rest of dinner went by in comfortable silence, and afterwards, Severus felt as if he could fall asleep anywhere, even standing up. When he finally made it back to his room, he didn't bother changing out of his robes as he collapsed onto his bed, instantly drifting off the moment his head hit the pillow.

* * *

The next morning, Harry was on his way to breakfast when something caused him to pause outside his father's study. He hovered at the doorway, realizing after a few seconds that it was Snape who was sitting on the settee, still as a statue, his face buried in his hands. His father blended into the shadows so well, Harry almost didn't see him.

 _Did something happen?_

He'd never seen his father like this before.

"Sir?" Harry knocked on the open door, "Are you all right?" he asked carefully.

There was no response.

Harry took a few steps into the room, cautiously glancing around until his eyes landed on the Pensieve from yesterday, still next to his father's desk. His eyes darted from the stone basin back to his father slumped on the sofa, and suddenly everything became clear.

Didn't his mother say in the letter that she'd left memories for his father?

Harry stared down into the swirling silvery-white substance, watching the scenes flashing by with longing. He didn't think his father would mind if he saw them, considering a baby version of himself was also in the memories...

But Harry figured he should probably ask for permission first… just in case.

Harry turned toward Snape, who still hadn't moved a muscle. "Um… sir, can I— do you mind if—"

There was a minuscule nod of his father's head, and Harry took that as permission to enter. He gripped the edge of the basin, shivering slightly with anticipation. Taking one more glance at his father, Harry took a deep breath and then leaned over the shimmering substance, plunging headfirst into the swirling depths below.

* * *

 **A/N:** _Thanks for reading! I know it's been quite a while since my last update, and I'm so sorry about that. Life just got in the way, but now I'm trying to get back into the swing of things. You wouldn't believe how many drafts I went through for this chapter, and I'm still not sure how I feel about it. I just needed to move on so we can continue with the story and get to the memories chapter, which I hope to have ready soon._

 _If you want a kind of glimpse into an AU of this world, I had written a little one shot of Severus with a little Harry that you can check out on my page._

 _Anyways, until next time,_

 _~Amy_


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